


The Charades Game

by kittensnakes



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ouran High School Host Club Fusion, Cheesy drama, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Adora, Love Triangles, Multi, References to Ouran High School Host Club, catra does not fuck w men, catra isnt a catgirl it makes me uncomfy when shes a catgirl in human aus so she is not a cat girl, double trouble is classist for the sake of drama, fashionable! catra, i really want to say catra is demirromantic thats what we're going for, kinda used ep 1 as a guideline at first im sorry, possessive! adora, she just likes two people period, warning: adora is fucking whipped, warning: catra is also whipped, watch ohshc to understand pls, whipped on urban dictionary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittensnakes/pseuds/kittensnakes
Summary: “That’ll be eighty thousand,” she swings the same hand that silenced Adora towards her and opens her palms, “do you have it on you, commoner, or should I ask the school to contact your mom and tell her to pull it out of the bank?”Catra bites her tongue, this spoiled fucking brat, she could never make that much- not in the moments spanning from now until the girl pipes up again, or possibly ever in her life. She wishes she could be up there with her biological mom, or even down there with her adoptive dad. “How’s heaven, mom?” “How’s hell, you good for nothing son of a bitch? Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.”“Or,” Glimmer drawls, “you become our dog (errand boy)! Or in this case, our cat.”Her shoulders tense, she takes a moment to scan her surroundings, she figures these are the kind of people she can’t escape from- even with a  passport.“Alright,” she sucks in crisp, biting cold air, her nails digging into her palms- she believes that this will be her last moment of true freedom for the next three years. “ I’ll do it.”~~~Or, the Ouran High School Host Club, but gayer.*originally "The BrightMoon Host Club Will be Waiting for You..."*
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra/Double Trouble (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Oh my god thank you so much for reading. I really just needed a passion project and I found the idea for this AU on some forum. Some warning, the first chapter has a lot of mentions of the first episode of the show, as I took inspiration from it. It follows the plot very closes but later branches out (i have much planned, I think). So don't be alarmed if you see some lines from the show in here, i promise it won't happen again I feel like a sore loser 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! On with the show!!!

Four fucking libraries, Catra grimaces to herself, and not one of them is quiet. It’s not like she was a stranger to loud, brash teenagers (in fact, she could be considered one as well), but the fewer people who knew her, the better. She wasn’t here for rich kid experiences, gossipy luncheons, coffee runs and shopping trips, and most of all: friends. She’d put her head down, and go throughout her next three of her high school years working to leave Etheria, get into a good college out of state, and eventually learn how to live her life again, but for now:  _ no friends. _

Excluding Scorpia, she noted, the girl had gotten her into this school after all, and honestly, Catra didn’t mind her (you know, when she didn’t invade her personal space or incessantly try to dig deeper into Catra’s psyche- she was fine). Luckily, the taller girl had already made plans for lunch, something about some club, and left Catra to her own devices. 

Which now was raking her long, black nails across the pastel walls of BrightMoon Academy, searching for a quiet place to eat. She decided it would be best to not try her chances with the washrooms, not knowing who could be there, or sit in one of the many long corridors and eat lunch there like a weirdo. She was already notoriously known as the commoner who made it in, she didn’t need people to make even more assumptions about her in the open like that. Plus, she already didn’t have the uniform- she figured everyone knew about her history from her worn blue jeans, boots, dark glasses, and hand-me-down leather jacket that she didn’t belong here. 

Soon enough, she found herself stopped at one of the paneled windows, more like a movie screen to a foreign world instead of an actual window, she had to admit the view was nice. Down below her was the tea garden, where some would spend their lunch planting exotic and likely expensive flowers or chatting about the upcoming events or who they would take. 

If she were here with her, the one she couldn’t bring herself to name (even in her head), Catra could see herself with her, exchanging the packed lunches they made for one another, talking about… whatever. It would be nice, Catra said to herself somewhere deep in her head, but it was too late for that and she prayed that she wouldn’t see her in this crowded, fucking gigantic, rich kid school. She continued to walk soon after, continuing her search for a peaceful place.

Soon, the large hallways came into the classrooms, where she found not one but two music rooms. Inside Room #1, she could hear an echo of a cacophony, a practice of sorts, she choose not to take the chances and opened the door to Room #2. Inside, it was chillier than hallways due to the blasted AC and the lack of light. Catra raised her dark glasses and scanned the room, no one was here, she was safe- finally. 

She plops down on one of the admittedly, extremely soft, couches and brings out her lunch. Halfway through her first bite, she hears a rattling and soft footsteps from the other side of the vast music room, the short hairs on the back of her neck bristle, like someone was behind her- already inside her head; she chooses to ignore it, shaking her head to rid herself of an unexpected supernatural visitor. 

Another bite, the ghost lets itself be known to Catra.

“You can’t eat in here,” she knows that voice, “this room belongs to the Host Club.”

“Awh, and what are you? Its police?” Catra cooed mockingly back.

The voice, the voice she knows too intimately, is taken aback, she can hear her walk towards her in disbelief and rush, “Catra? What are you doing here?”

“What? You didn’t expect to see me here?”

“Well, yea, I figured you would burn down this place if you had the chance,”  _ so why haven’t I, again? _

“Oh right, I go here now,” Catra put on her classic bitchy facade, one she knew Adora had only ever seen from the sidelines. 

It had been a year since she last saw the blonde, the one who promised the world to her, and it had been a year since that promise had been taken away. Catra won’t go into flashbacks, not now, she can’t let her in again.

She pushes herself off the plush pink couch, shoving her lunch quickly into her bag. She doesn’t meet Adora’s baby blue eyes, which are likely widened in shock, she can nearly hear the girl think, try to find a way to get Catra back- but she wasn’t going to give her the chance.

She stalks off, her clunky boots surely leaving a mark on pristine floors, the ones she can’t pull her eyes away from. 

“Catra, wait-” Adora starts.

“What?” she whipped her head, it was too late. 

Behind her, glass shattered and the lights went up, she might have been ambushed. She turns back again, there lies the remnants of a ceramic blue vase, one where an old mural of a dragon adorned the body with a powerful blond heroine riding it. Fuck, she thinks, quickly putting her glasses back on in order to adjust to the light.

Surrounding her was what appeared to be Adora’s little host club, or, her new sparkly friends- in all shapes in sizes and all colors, the most colorful being the tiny pinkette’s, her face turning an explosive red, steam practically coming out from her ears; while the boy next to her, stood in shock, all the color from his kind face vanishing.

The tiny pink gremlin watches the vase for a moment, hoping for it to magically piece itself back together and get itself back on top of its (frankly, unstable) podium, then directs all her all-mighty attention to Catra. 

“You,” her eyes narrow, “you broke our vase!”

Catra stands, trying to decide whether or not to pick a fight with this pink bitch, her mouth chooses for her, “well, maybe if you bolted down the podium and didn’t keep it in the, oh, I don’t know, center of an empty room- I wouldn’t have!”

She starts shouting at her, Catra couldn’t bring herself to listen or even laugh because seeing this girl throwing a temper tantrum over a vase might’ve been the funniest thing she’s seen in a while. She hears Adora, altruistically, taking the blame and telling her she would pay for it. On the other hand, she hears the boy panicking, the vase being centuries old, and an art installation rental, that she felt bad for. Out of the corner of her eyes, Catra sees two older members fight back a tiny first year, one shushing her and telling her it’d be alright, and the other standing rather stoically, but she could see the annoyance rising from her shoulders. 

“Hold up, hold up!” she hears a kind, and luckily familiar voice, from the door, “what about first base? Oh, or did you say  _ Heyse?  _ Oh! Catra! You’re here.”

She distracts herself, “no it’s  _ vase,  _ Scorpia, what the fuck is a  _ Heyse  _ anyways?”

Scorpia moves to be beside her, she figures this was the club she meant, she could see the taller girl falling into this type of crowd.

“Hey! Language!” the pink girl fumes, “the BrightMoon Academy Host-Princess Club, running for a consecutive two decades, placing fifth in all host clubs nationwide under the Host Club and Etiquette Fulfillment Board, does not condone cursing of any sorts.”

Oh boy, could Catra have fun dissecting whatever the fuck that was, but she saw the look of puzzlement on Scorpia’s face and the one of concern on Adora’s so she chose just to play by what little she had.

“Alright,” she shrugged, “sorry for the vase, then, I didn’t mean to mess with someone with such pedigree- I’ll be on my way now.”

She turns, her pathway out already being blocked by the tiny first year and the annoyed, stoic upperclassmen- the other stays put, trying to soothe the third-degree burn of a situation.

“Not so fast,” the steam locomotive of a girl asserts herself, pushing herself away from Adora and the boy, who had gotten some color back on his face. “You’re gonna have to pay for that vase somehow.”

“I don’t have to pay for anything, you should’ve had it bolted down,” Catra spits.

“Well, someone has to pay for it,” the girl grins, rather cattily.

“Glimmer, I said I’d pay for it…” the pinkette causes Adora to pause with the raising of her finger:  _ silence. _

“That’ll be eighty thousand,” she swings the same hand that silenced Adora towards her and opens her palms, “do you have it on you, commoner, or should I ask the school to contact your mom and tell her to pull it out of the bank?”

Catra bites her tongue, this spoiled fucking brat, she could never make that much- not in the moments spanning from now until the girl pipes up again, or possibly ever in her life. She wishes she could be up there with her biological mom, or even down there with her adoptive dad.  _ “How’s heaven, mom?” “How’s hell, you good for nothing son of a bitch? Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.” _

“Or,” Glimmer drawls, “you become our dog (errand boy)! Or in this case, our  _ cat.” _

Her shoulders tense, she takes a moment to scan her surroundings, she figures these are the kind of people she can’t escape from- even with a passport. 

“Alright,” she sucks in crisp, biting cold air, her nails digging into her palms- she believes that this will be her last moment of true freedom for the next three years. “ I’ll do it.”

~~~

From the moment she woke up today in her too-big-to-breathe room, she knew it couldn’t be good. No, she doesn’t believe in otherworldly beings or superpowers or six or seventh senses (unless if it was that time she KNEW she and Catra were going to get food poisoning from that gas station “fancy tuna”). But there was something in the air today, something once sweet turned bitter, something aching right underneath her ribs, pushing her shoulder blades apart, and leaving her dazed and empty throughout the day, as her teachers read out the syllabus for this year's curriculum. Something in the back of her mind called to her: telling her to fight, telling her it was the end of the world, telling her someone was here, waiting for her, dare say, calling for her.

Then, she heard Catra, then she argued with Catra, then Catra broke that dumb historical vase that she told Glimmer nearly a thousand times to get bolted down, then all hell broke loose. Catra hadn’t let her guard down, she couldn’t see even a lick of some sort of indifference in her eyes, but, to be fair, it was dark and she had those stupid protective shades on (protective of what? Adora didn’t know), and still, shouldn’t have Catra felt something? Wasn’t she the only one that Catra would let in? And how the hell did she know Scorpia?

After she was able to calm Glimmer down enough and soothe Bow, she handed Catra, who refused to even look at her, a list of errands. She looked nice, really nice if she only took off those stupid shades  _ (they’re inside, why did she even need shades?),  _ and her hair was… just wow. Adora had never seen here without a wall of curly thick hair, something that made her seem so insusceptible, and don’t get her wrong! it made her look really, really good- it is just different, is all. Catra loved her hair, maybe more than fancy tuna, or staying up late so she could easily take cat naps after school, or pranking Kyle at night or…

No, she can’t think about things like that, she has a club to run and she can’t let herself get distracted, as much as she wants to go back to the past.

When Catra left, leaving angry heel marks in her wake, Glimmer turned to her and just knew who she was, Adora didn’t have to say. For Bow, he was still on the vase. 

~~~

In this moment, or any moment in the past hour, or in the next three fucking years she has to work under a girl two inches shorter than her, Catra doesn’t know how to feel. Maybe she does, the first thing she finds in herself is anger: first, at that stupid glittery girl Adora seemed so partial to, then, towards Adora (for being here so easily), and, lastly, at herself (for acknowledging that she eventually would bump into Adora, as she is a silent force of nature, and refused to believe it would happen because maybe she just needs to exist outside of her…)

Oh, coffee, she needs that- it was the instant kind but she figured it would be fine. She grabbed a few containers and shoved it in her cart. 

Next was confusion, Adora should be angry with her: for ghosting her, saying the things she said so unjustly, and for taking away their last chance of happiness before she left but she wasn’t. Adora was hurting, reaching out towards her, and Catra was confused as to why she wanted to reach outback.

She’s ready to check out, she double checks the list to make sure she got everything and heads to the cashiers.

Scorpia had given her advice not too long ago, passed down from her girlfriend neither of them met yet, that in order to understand why she’s feeling the way she’s feeling, she has to label the emotions she recognizes. It’s not her style, to be self-reflective, but she promised Scorpia she’d try harder on her own if she stopped trying to pry at her personal life. Catra had a lot to thank this elusive girlfriend for, she was the reason she even got into BrightMoon Academy, even if she’s hated every bit of it so far, going here will help her get into a better college- get her away from Weaver-  _ that  _ was something to be thankful for.

She realizes she’s causing a line, she scowls at the cashier and hands him a twenty, taking her things and leaving. 

~~~

“So,” Bow starts, drawing one finger around the golden rim of his teacup, “that was Catra?”

“Yup,” Adora confirms, biting into a tiny sandwich.

“And she goes here?”

“I guess.”

“Doesn’t she hate this school?”

“I thought so,” her eyebrows quirked together, teeth clicking in her closed shut mouth.

“And you didn’t know she was coming…”

“Okay, can we stop with the questions?” she stood up, her palms slammed flat against the table, she let out a huff in an Adora-like fashion and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know what she’s doing here, or how she got in, or even why-”

“Oh! Do you know Catra, Adora?” Scorpia pipes up from one of the couches, where she sits with Perfuma and some of her regular customers, who all giggle at Scorpia’s kind intrusion and puppy-like curiosity.

“Yes- I mean, no! I've just seen her around, and how do you know her?” Adora nearly spits out, her hands digging into the sleeves of her blazer. 

“We went to the same school together! I just saw her by herself at lunch one day and I thought “ _ oh, she must be lonely!”  _ so I sat with her and  _ poof!  _ We’ve been best friends ever since!”

Okay, that was not true, because Adora was her best friend and she had no idea who this girl was… 

Small hoity-toity giggles interrupted her thought process, coming from one of the couches near the front of the room. Catra stood, one clawed hand on her hip, the other nursing a paper bag, talking to the girls waiting for their time slots. From the looks of it, they actually found her endearing, hell, she was making them  _ laugh,  _ not at someone but with her. Like Adora, Bow and Glimmer picked up on it too.

“She’s good, Glimmer,” Bow takes her shoulders, “what if we promote her?”

Glimmer slaps his hands away and gasps, “don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

“Why not?” Bow pouts, “you have to admit she’s kind of good.”  
“And hot,” Mermista says from a table, where she sits with Frosta.

“Mermista!” Adora and Glimmer exclaim. 

“What? We were all thinking it- oh, and she knows it too. Just look at her, she dresses like a young Leonardo Dicaprio, but gayer.”

“Speaking of which, if she’s working with us, she’ll probably need a uniform. I’ll add that to her tab,” Glimmer plans, almost as if she has all her bills and calculations in front of her. 

Adora keeps her mouth clamped shut, her shoulders tense, as she watches Catra explain the mechanics of instant coffee to some of the girls, who all watched her with admiration.

“I’m a little scared of drinking this.”

“I’m scared if I drink this, my dad will yell at me,” Adora overhears the girls whispering to one another, then, 

“What if I let you drink it from my mouth?” Catra flirts, the girls coo and blush immensely. 

“Alright!” Adora quickly interrupts, pulling Catra to the side, the girls’ eyes don’t leave her but trail to her backside. “Catra, you can’t just bring us,  _ this-  _ we asked for ground coffee! They don’t even know what this is!”

“One hundred grams for three dollars?” Bow observes, taking one of the containers from the girls, “this is a lot cheaper than what we usually get.”

Catra, Adora, and Bow look to Glimmer for what to do, she shrugs, “we might as well try it. But, I swear to god, Catra, if this is some sort of prank I’ll…” 

“You’ll what? Decapitate me then never get your precious vase money back? Like you could even lay a finger on me, Sparkles.”

“Okay, it’s  _ Glimmer,  _ and I totally could!”

Catra just smirked, which only seemed to provoke Glimmer even more so. “God I-”

“Okay! Let’s get started, I’ll grab the cups,” Adora interrupted. “Catra, can you teach me how to make the coffee?”

Adora knew how, for sure, she and Catra made it when it was too cold to get coffee down the street. They had a system, even, but now… 

She had to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, someone who came from a long line of wealth and was temporarily adopted by Angella Fukuhara after her parents mysteriously left on a business expedition. That wasn’t the truth at all, the truth was that she was from the same home as Catra, raised by the same bitter old woman and luckily taken in by Glimmer’s mom after she had met both Glimmer and Bow one day near her run-down school. The truth was that she left Catra behind. 

But now Catra was here, next to her, taking thirty seconds to stir each cup of coffee with a look of indifference on her face. “Alright, this is how you make instant coffee, genius since you seem to have forgotten…”

“Hey! I haven’t, I just…” 

“Just what?” Catra asks snarkily, the words on Adora’s lips quickly leaving her. “Whatever, I’m gonna go give this to them.”

Adora follows her, watches her start to swing her hips suggestively as they approach the table, place that toothy smirk on her olive freckled face, her glasses don’t do much anymore- but Adora knew that if she removed them the entire room would be hooked. Catra was an enigma, once hers and now, she didn’t know.

“Oh, Kitten, now you're taking the joke too far,” Adora hears a voice from the table beside her, one filled with something of quiet formulation. “Their palates won’t be able to take that crap. If only they knew they didn’t have to drink it just because she bought it.”

They look up at her, seemingly staring right into her conscious, taking a moment to learn every bit of privately stored information they could, then softly sighs, leaning their head on a long elegant hand and giving Adora a malicious grin. “Oh sorry, did I say that out loud,” they played innocently.

“You know, we don’t condone cussing.”

They roll their eyes, “ugh, pardon my french! I figured you would be fine with it. Are you going to punish me?”

Adora scoffs and goes back to watch Catra and the girls, who sit in fascination. She wonders how Catra feels about the child-like interest these girls possess, complete lack of awareness towards the outside world. If she had to guess, she would say Catra is hating it but is too scared to say anything to piss off Glimmer. The idea of it all makes her laugh, but the realization that she doesn’t know what the girl is thinking anymore quickly sobers her, she’s just like everyone else, absorbed by the act Catra can play in order to entertain.

Having Catra on the Host-Princess team wasn’t up for debate anymore, people had been rushing to Glimmer to make appointments with Catra since she had returned with that stupid instant coffee.

She shouldn’t be watching her like this, Adora knows, but she can’t help it. Catra’s always had this way of drawing her in, making her spin in her orbit, and before, it was just Adora. Now, there’s nothing Adora can do but try to make it back to her, she’d have to fight over the rest of the customers in order to get her attention. There’s something about the thought that boils Adora’s blood, makes her want to move forward and take Catra back for herself.

~~~

Day two of being the Host-Princess club’s bitch boy and Catra finds her bag in the fountain, and all of its contents stewing with the award-winning koi. Catra doesn’t even know how she could get down there, there are way too many hallways and too little stairways, but she starts running, in passing she hears a voice that rings in her ears, makes her pause.

“Don’t you adore all this attention, kitten?” they ask, “I know you  _ adore  _ having Adora fawn over you.”

“Sorry, do I know you?”

“Not yet, the name’s Double Trouble,” they carelessly cross their arms, jutting their hip out. “I was watching you in the club earlier, you seemed to have everyone hooked with that party trick.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just instant coffee- wait until they find out what Koolaid mix is.”

They chuckle at that, quickly adding, “it won’t last for long, y’know, they’ll eventually move onto someone new, all those girls share about five brain cells in there, so you’ll be abandoned all over again.”

Catra snarls, “what’s your angle?”

Instead of responding, they just smile and point their head to the window, acknowledging the mess below, “looks like your stuff got waterboarded, better go fish it out, commoner.”

They sashay away before she could say anything, Catra shakes her head and hits the ground running. Before she knows it, she’s pulling off her worn docs and rolling up her jeans to the midpoint of her calf in order to fish out all her bags' floating items.

She’s halfway done, almost done, she managed to get her book bag, her overpriced textbooks, and her lunchbox out, she just needs her damn wallet. Too immersed in finding it, she doesn’t hear Adora come, or the spectators murmuring around them.

“Don’t you hate swimming?” she jokes.

“Don’t” Catra growls. “Yes- I fucking hate this, so if you wanna help look for my wallet, be my guest.”

You don’t have to ask Adora twice, she’s already in the water when Catra finishes her sentence. “How’d this even get in here, anyway?”

_ Double Trouble?  _ She considers telling her but decides against it, she doesn’t want to make any more enemies than she has, “uh, I don’t know- threw ‘em in here just for the fun of it.”

Adora sees right through her, Catra can tell by the way her face bunches at her nose and she bites her lip like she ate something sour. She hates how familiar it is, but she chooses not to go into it, continuing the search for her wallet.

“How’s everyone back home?” Adora asks after a moment of combing the water.

Catra gave her a teetering chuckle, bouncing from high to low, “Hordak’s dead.”

“What?” 

“Yeah,” she hums, she shouldn’t feel the complete apathy she feels but it’s the only thing she has to accept. “Car crash… I’m sorry,” Catra whispers, “I should have texted you.”

It’s a moment of weakness Adora doesn’t know how to take it, “it’s alright, we didn’t really know him that well anyway.”

_ We,  _ like Adora never left, Catra grimaces, “Yeah, guess you're right.”

“Are you falling for me?” Adora’s tone changes to something light and playful.

“What?” 

“You know, since I’m a host now- I’ve always been charming but now I’m just plain magnetic,” she gives the smaller girl her loopy grin, the one that didn’t seem to fit their present.

“Pfft, what?” Catra scoffs, “I don’t like you!”

She kicks some water at Adora, little droplets staining the sides of her pants and blazers. Before she can retaliate, Catra finds her wallet and quickly rushes out, shaking her feet off and half-assedly sliding on her shoes, there’s something about it that makes her look so innocent.

Whatever match she was able to light with Catra soon starved itself of oxygen, and Catra was back to her standard, distant self, “come on, get out of the pond, you look stupid and we’re late.”

Adora quickly dries up and follows Catra to the Host Club.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra dressing like young leonardo dicaprio lives rent free in my head and u should consider leasing ur head out for her too (but free)
> 
> ~~~  
> find me!  
> twitter: identiddycrisys  
> tik tok: ohmaternal  
> ~~~  
> Q: Who's your favorite OHSHC character?  
> A: Mines tamaki fs :3 all i could think about while rewatching the episodes was how him and adora have the same amount of braincells lmao


	2. Starting Today, You are a Princess!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They watch Catra, talking to two first years who seem to be following her every word. Adora doesn’t even know what she’s saying from the distance she’s at but she’s being drawn in as well. It’s as if the words “natural rookie” hang above Catra’s head in flowery writing.  
> “You sure she was just a friend?”  
> “Positive” Adora gulps down, “I don’t even know if she likes girls.”  
> Glimmer groans at that, this dumbass- oh right, I can’t be cursing on company’s time."
> 
> OR
> 
> Catra gets acquainted !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy wow! This has been a journey to write already! I just finished writing chapter three, hopefully I'll be able to post that but I'm trying to stay one chapter ahead (i nearly posted this chapter several times this week) i know it isn't much, next chapter will def be longer, so just wait and see what will happen!

Whenever Catra finds herself in a foreign, and possibly dangerous, environment, she makes her notes: on her surroundings, on most traditional mannerisms, on people’s weaknesses; here’s what she’s found so far:

Her surroundings, Catra notes that this room is the same as any other she’s found herself in since she arrived: soft blue walls with marble lining, golden frames encapsulating thousand dollar paintings line the walls, there are windows facing the courtyard on the wall across from the door, mocking the ones that can be found out in the hallways, the entire school essentially relies on natural light rather than fluorescents, it’s a nice change from what she’s used to.

On the floor, there are panels of polished pink quartz, if you were to remove the couches and the tea tables and all the fucking porcelain, it would make a perfect dance floor but Catra is sure that this school has hundreds of “proper” dance halls.

At the end of the school day, when the large sleekest building rings the church bells, hundreds of girls rush to Music Room #2 to get whisked away by the BrightMoon Academy’s Host-Princess club, otherwise known as Catra’s now bosses. 

Just by the way they held themselves when they first met Catra, she had everything she needed to know about their cores, weaknesses, their names would soon follow. 

Glimmer Fukuhara, second year at BrightMoon Academy, leader of the Host-Princess Club, as it is her birthright to run it. She holds herself full of entitlement and desires like she owns the room but she craves the two rooms neighboring it. She’s the classic princess type, obnoxious, caring, friend-stealing. Glimmer was annoyed by any instance where things didn’t go according to her very loose, high hopes, plan- Catra, was nowhere in her plan when she broke that stupid vase the day before. Glimmer, from the looks of it, did not like Catra and that was extremely mutual. If Catra wasn’t intimidated by her large sum of wealth and powerful family, she would ensure that Glimmer was scratched head-to-toe by her claw-like nails.

Next was Bow Scribner, childhood best friend of Glimmer, slightly less wealthy than most of his classmates. His father supplied them with valuable historical pieces for their art installations and monthly auctions, items such as the infamous broken vase, the stupid vase that got her here in the first place. But besides that, Catra didn’t mind Bow, he got her fitted for a uniform and she was sure he was the reason that she wasn’t running errands anymore. If Bow wasn’t an extension of Glimmer and they didn’t get off on the wrong foot, she could see herself actually liking him. 

(She refuses to make any friends, she’s just doing this job to get in the good graces of BrightMoon Academy. She’ll be on her way when the final penny of her debt is paid off)

Excluding Scorpia, she figures Perfuma too, they’re the closest thing she can have to friends: the girl that latched onto her at first meeting and her girlfriend.

Perfuma was from an old royal family, from what Scorpia told her. She was the one calming Frosta when she broke the vase. Perfuma is a princess by default, her family is from some country in Europe, but she’s here for school. Her father, a king (by default), runs one of the highest-grossing medical marijuana corporations. She’s charming, she could see why Scorpia had fallen for her along with numerous customers, she walked barefoot and whisked girls and boys off their feet, explaining the deep complexities and simplicities of nature. Scorpia was a passionate person, about nearly everything, too, but she had never seen her so hooked. 

Mermista and Frosta were similar to Glimmer and Bow, their families were intertwined. Mermista’s family runs a fishing company while Frosta’s controls docks and international trades of resources. Mermista, a third-year, was sworn by her father to watch after Frosta when she got accepted into BrightMoon and she begrudgingly accepted (she figured that Mermista had no choice or her allowance would be taken away). 

And, that leaves Adora. Catra could make up a story for her, one where she came from a nuclear family with nuclear wealth and lived a happy life alongside her friends, Bow and Glimmer. That she didn’t come here on a soccer scholarship, but because it was her own birthright, set for a life of greatness. In another world, she wouldn’t have met Catra, she would be acquainted with being selfish, five-dollar coffees, having everything handed to her on a silver platter. This wasn’t that world, this was the world where she had to fight to pretend to be that Adora, unphased by riches and shiny opportunities. 

Catra and Adora had the same story, in truth, abandoned by their families and left with Sharon Weaver and her partner in crime, Hordak. For fun, they threw nuts and bolts down storm drain ‘til they filled up, they sold forgotten house trinkets and Kyle’s schoolwork for extra money, and they would stay up all night, in each other's breathing space, recounting the days they spent together. They shared a bed but not because they were too poor for a second bed but because they were inseparable. 

And now, they have the wall a stupid scholarship and Catra built between them. 

~~~

As soon as Catra stepped out of the dressing room, with her glasses stored in her leather jacket, girls were lining up to talk to her. Adora realizes that this is likely the first time anyone from the club has seen Catra without them. The entire room releases a set of “oooh's” and “aahs” and they marvel at Catra’s rare condition:

One piercing aquamarine eye and one an amber gold.

Adora could recount all the times she caught herself staring at them, and all the times she caught Catra staring back.

The blazer fits her well, Adora thinks, watching Catra play with its lapels and fixing her tie. Ultimately, she decides to leave it undone and shoves it in her back pocket, leaving her sharp freckled collarbones on display.

“You’re staring,” Glimmer bumps her elbow into Adora’s rib, distracting her from her heterochromia-induced daydream.

“Am not!” Adora tenses.

“You know, as much as I can’t stand her,” Glimmer starts, “I have to admit, she’s natural.” 

They watch Catra, talking to two first years who seem to be following her every word. Adora doesn’t even know what she’s saying from the distance she’s at but she’s being drawn in as well. It’s as if the words “natural rookie” hang above Catra’s head in flowery writing.

“You sure she was just a friend?”

“Positive” Adora gulps down, “I don’t even know if she likes girls.”

Glimmer groans at that, _this dumbass- oh right, I can’t be cursing on company’s time._ But Glimmer reminds herself to give Adora an earful when they get home.

Adora had been living with Glimmer since she got into BrightMoon. Her mother saw how horrendous Weaver was treating her and offered to take her in, Adora had no choice but to accept. Catra on the other hand wasn’t so lucky, but she’s here now, for reasons unknown.

Adora wonders moved into one of the dorms, or was sleeping on the streets all alone, or even worse, still with Weaver… 

“Quit beating yourself up and get to your clients,” Glimmer interrupts once again, Adora does as she’s told.

~~~

Catra couldn’t believe how much fun she was having, she’s basically being paid to hit on women! Not to mention that Adora looks as red as that stupid blazer she’s wearing. It was all fun and games until her appointment with Double Trouble.

I don’t even understand why they asked to see me, Catra scowls inwardly- keeping her flirtatious facade up front, they don’t even like me.

When she lets her eyes wander back to Double Trouble’s face, their piercing green eyes narrowed but their toothy smile wide, as if she were their prey. She doesn’t let it phase her. 

“It’s a beautiful day we’re having, isn’t it,” she starts, “yet, all I wanna do is look at you. You have lovely eyes, ‘DT.”

They laugh, it’s hollow yet somehow it shakes Catra’s bones. “Oh, kitten, you don’t have to do this playboy act with me.”

“Alright,” she lets her face relax from its facade, “what do you need from me, then?”

“Can’t I just get to know you?”

“You don’t seem to be a person who just wants to “get to know me.”

They lean back in their chair, drinking in Catra’s furrowed brows and tight line of a mouth, taking in whatever they could from Catra, seeing right through her, “my bad, it seems we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Oh jeez, you think? You call me a commoner, jump to conclusions, and I’m pretty sure you threw my bag in the fountain!” Catra snarled, her voice in a low yet harsh whisper.

“I would never do such a thing, I mean, I did call you a commoner- but I would never throw someone’s valuable possessions in the water!”

“So, let’s say you didn’t, what’s your angle?” Catra digs her claws into the table, leaving obvious scratch marks.

Double Trouble is still completely unphased, Catra can admire it if she wasn’t the one facing them. “I just wanted to give you a piece of advice, maybe I was swooned by you like the rest of those morons. You know, you are kind of cute.”

Catra flushes, groaning, “I’m not cute!”

“Yet here you are, working as a host,” they grin, “should I let them know your performance is below satisfactory?”  
“No!” Catra quickly answers, she’s a bit panicked, Double Trouble can see. Before responding rashly, she smooths herself down and asks once again, “what is your angle?”

“Go on a date with me?” 

“What?” Catra squeaks, this was not how this was supposed to go.

“As I said before,” Double Trouble rests in their seat with a silent authority, swinging one leg across the other, “you swept me off my feet with that automatic coffee.”

Okay, it’s instant, and I thought you hated it… Catra sneers, staring into Double Trouble eyes trying to find the truth in their question. 

“I’m not really looking for romance right now, but I’m flattered by your approach,” Catra’s voice returns to normal, giving them a small, dishonest smile. Maybe, Catra considers that they don’t have an angle at all and just like Catra, they don’t know how to display an honest emotion upfront. It was a brutal reflection, but she couldn’t see it any other way if that were to be the truth.

Double Trouble nods silently, opening the coat pocket of their blazer and sliding a card across the table, “here’s my number, let me know if you reconsider, kitten.”

They leave their seat with a small passing “it was nice talking to you,” and head out, leaving Catra in their wake, staring at the serpentine card in awe.

After a beat of silence, she finds Scorpia and Perfuma and beside her at the table. “What was that about?” Scorpia queries.

“Nothing,” Catra shakes, keeping her eyes on the card, trying to find some answer in its font. “They just asked me out.”

“Oh!” Perfuma exclaims, “your first one! Don’t worry, it happens a lot. I used to get them a few times a day before I met Scorpia.”

“Yup! Now they have to go through me!” Scorpia announces proudly, but quickly returning to a concerned frown, “are you okay? Wildcat?”

“Yeah, I mean, why wouldn’t I be? It’s fine, I got a few yesterday too,” but none of them really stood out to her.

All the girls (and unfortunately, one boy) she met yesterday were only attracted to her because she appeared to be able to respond to any sexual fantasy they had, none of them had actually seemed to care about her. Not that she minded, she understands that that just comes with being a host (and not a princess, never a princess), she actually welcomed it.

Glimmer heads over to them with a clipboard in hand, “alright Catra, you have three more clients before you’re done for the day- so get off your butt and head to the east wing.”

Catra sags in relief, letting the thought of Double Trouble leave her head, and shoves their card into her trouser’s front pocket.

~~~

The sun casts a large gridded shadow over the music room, everyone has down their hosting time for the day and everyone is breaking down the chairs and the tables, casting them to the sides of the room so the janitorial staff can clean the floors later that night. 

“So,” Adora draws, trying to get Catra’s attention, “how was your first day as a princess?”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Catra growls, quickly simmering down, “it was whatever. I got asked out by Double Trouble.”

“What?” Adora bounces away in shock, her face flushing to the shade of her blazer, “did you say yes?” 

“Calm your tits, princess,” Catra earns a small “hey!” from Glimmer on the sidelines, choosing to ignore her. “I’m not really interested in dating right now, anyway.”

Adora let out a small “oh” as she continued to stack the chairs, finding Catra’s response discouraging. She wasn’t interested in her, not like that anyway, she just misses her is all.

_Fucking bullshit,_ Glimmer will likely say later that night, ignoring all Host-Princess club policy in order to say it. But seriously, Adora didn’t like Catra like that. 

Not that she knew of, anyway, did it make her feel funny when she watched Catra openly flirt with other girls? Yes, but that’s because it was just weird- seeing her again, especially as an outsider. It didn’t matter, Catra was doing her job, she knows none of it is real. 

“Alright squad!” Glimmer calls to the team, rousing their attention, “you all did amazing today, but there are a few things we have to go over before you can leave. First off, I would like to welcome Catra to the team.”  
Everyone gives a small applaud while Catra stands as sturdy as a tree, unprepared for all the kind attention, she scowls in order to ward off any residing congratulations. 

“Next, we have our monthly charity ball in two weeks. We’ll need everyone to help promote it, take some of the flyers on the way out- it’ll be nice if you could let your parents know. Catra?”

“What?” Catra responded in her usual defensive manner, arms crossed and hip jutted out. 

“Make sure you know how to dance by then,” Glimmer gives her a challenging smirk, “otherwise I’ll have no choice but to demote you back to errand boy.”

Adora sees it, it’s a test. She had to go through it herself when she joined the year before. Glimmer couldn’t demote her, not now, anyways, with how much money and promise Catra had been bringing in- but she wanted to see how much pressure she could be put under before she cracked. After all, it took much to be a host, but Adora wasn’t sure how much Catra could take.

“I know how to dance!” the accused responds, “I’ll dance your ass off, Sparkles!”

“We’ll see about that,” she says in a sing-song tone, “and watch your mouth, otherwise I’ll really have to demote you.”

Adora watches Catra step back from her fight-call stance, grumbling to herself with a small red blush coating her freckles. 

Glimmer quickly goes back to her itinerary, going down the list to look for anything else, she then adds, “that’s all for today. I’ll see you guys tomorrow at the normal time, meet me here for a rundown before we head down to the garden.”

Everyone nods in unison, breaking apart to grab their things and start small, farewell conversations. Adora quickly catches up to a hurried Catra, pulling her to the side.

“Hey,” she starts, not quite knowing where to go from there, “Glimmer’s bluffing, but you should know how to dance… I can teach you if you want! I’m not very good either but I can always try to help…”

“Calm down, princess, I’ll look up a youtube tutorial or something,” Catra says bitterly yet so nonchalantly, then adds, practically spitting acid, “just because I’m here doesn’t mean we’re friends. I have a debt to pay and I’m not gonna let you swoop in and pay for it to fuel your ego- I don’t even think you have the funds for that.”

“Hey!” the insult knocks her down, quickly bouncing back, “Catra! I just want us to be good again, I’ve missed you…”

She reaches out her hand, trying to grab the other girls wrist but fails, Catra swats it away. “Don’t you dare act like you didn’t leave me.”

“I’m not, it’s just…”

“Just what? You got bored of your new sparkly friends? Just like you got bored of me?”

“Catra! I never got bored of you! I just…”

“Don’t you get it? I don’t care,” Catra basically shouts, everyone fortunately out of music room #2. “So please, do us both a favor and just leave me alone, I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix what’s already broken to be a good person and I don’t want to be one of your stupid selfless acts.” 

Before she could argue back, Catra had walked out the door, once again. Adora knew she couldn’t like Catra, especially after all of that, so why did it hurt so bad?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, let fashionista Catra live rent free in ur head like she lives in mine.
> 
> Anyways! Tell me what you liked, what you dream of, what you yearn for, idk leave me a comment!  
> ~~~  
> Twitter: identiddycrisys  
> Tik Tok: ohmaternal (dw its mostly shera content)  
> catra's spite playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2arP5VxLNPKDIolggX8a5n?si=O4AHTEacSNmh5Jlbd0cQ3g  
> catradora playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4DdOJR9UJiumdYBo0EsjBA?si=d7iaPL0LS3mwgugRmDLBMQ  
> (official fic playlist on its way!  
> ~~~  
> Q: what song has been stuck in ur head as of late?  
> A: "Washing Machine Heart" by Mitski


	3. The Big Charity Ball!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Adora might not be able to keep it in her pants, maybe, Bow will be struggling to keep his goddamn cumberbund on, for sure, and Glimmer? She’s experienced enough to keep whatever was itching underneath her skin and bubbling at her throat inside. She’s a manager, after all, a host foremost, a decent actress when it was needed, those are all the qualifications she needed for the night. Everything is going to be fine."
> 
> OR
> 
> the cliche dance we've all been waiting for!

Catra doesn’t bother to listen to Scorpia on the ride home as she can’t quite bring herself to think, she’s running on autopilot as she watches the city from outside the tinted SUV’s windows. Sometimes she’ll respond to the taller girl with a small nod or a soft grunt, as she continues her story without any care to Catra’s demeanor. Scorpia must be talking about one of the many clubs she’s in, what she ate for lunch today, how the birds acted when she walked from building-to-building, it’s all the same to Catra.

When they arrive at their spacious home, Catra hangs her bag on the hook against the front wall and slips off her shoes, immediately heading for her room, quickly glancing at Scorpia's mothers in a fashion they could understand:  _ not in the mood,  _ the look on her face says in passing. After Adora, they seemed to understand her mannerisms the most.

She was grateful, Catra might have not showed it at all times but Scorpia’s moms deciding to take her in shortly after Adora left might have been the best thing to happen to her. With Adora gone, there was no stopping Weaver.

Weaver, Catra’s closest thing to a mother, however anyone within fifty feet of the wretched woman would know otherwise. From what she knew, the woman adopted Catra and Adora for a solid-flowing paycheck from the government, nothing more. Growing up, she didn’t get bedtime stories and checking the closet for monsters, no homemade cookies after school, or no soothing lullabies when she came home sad, just cold and harsh reinforcement of rules, resentment, and learning how to do everything herself. Sure, it gave Catra a backbone but she would give it away in an instant if it meant she got a life where Weaver was six feet in the ground, she’s glad that she got the closest to that.

She hadn’t seen her since she forged the adoption papers and snuck out her bedroom’s window with all her belongings that she could fit in her school bag, Weaver made no attempt to get her back, taking the message to not fuck with her anymore. Catra was grateful that they came to that understanding, she figures.

Plus, now she has her own room, with her own bed (she had her own bed before, but this was officially HER bed), her own clothes (that aren’t hand-me-downs), and the express permission from Theresa and Darice to use whatever allowance she got to decorate it and make it her own and, oh, did she make good on that.

Painting the walls a deep maroon, hanging band posters and lining the walls with CD’s and records, and scattering the room with clumps of clothes (something she could never do at Weaver’s, as they had weekly room checkups): Catra had made this once guest quarters into a room that she would be proud to call her own. 

As she locked her door shut, she turned on her record player, turned it onto the highest volume, and slipped under her covers, burrowing her head into her pillow to groan. 

Scorpia knocks on her door, “Wildcat?” her response is muffled, “I brought you some tea and mom asked me to ask you to turn it down, can you turn it down and open the door, please?”

Catra can’t say no to tea, especially Scorpia’s tea, she groans once more to let Scorpia in then quickly dives back into her black duvet. Scorpia leaves her tea on Catra’s bedside table and turns down the music, sitting on her bed soon after, her warmth and weight at Catra’s toes. 

“What’s up with you today?” the words, surprisingly accusatory, slip out of Scorpia’s mouth, she then covers it with a rushed: “don’t worry, erm, if you don’t wanna talk about it- I get it! Well… not really, but I’m still here.”

“It’s Adora,” Catra mutters, letting Scorpia come to her own conclusion of: 

“Oh! I totally get it, then I was jealous of her when I first met her too. I was worried that maybe Perfuma liked her since, y’know, it’s Adora! And… well…”

“No!” Catra sits up in her spot, “it’s not that, either.”

Scorpia, as dumb as she usually is, realizes, “it’s her, isn’t it?”

Catra nods. They never talked about the elusive  _ her, _ Scorpia had only heard of her when Catra would spend the nights cursing at the wind, blaming all her problems on one girl, she never had the courage to ask who she was, but suddenly, she knew all she needed to know.

“She was the one that left you?” 

Catra nods again, taking a long sip of her tea, letting it burn her tongue. 

“She’s your ex? I mean, wow, go you… I just never took you for someone who goes for the jock type!”

“She’s NOT my ex!” Catra quickly adds, what is my type, anyway? Not Adora,  _ not Adora! Nope. _

“You guys never dated?” Scorpia quirks her head, question marks basically hanging overhead.

“Nope,” Catra calms, “we just grew up together, I guess. I don’t think she even likes girls.”

“Pfft, that’s not true- have you seen the way she looks at you?”  _ What?  _ “I mean, now I get it, she looked like her head was about to blow when you were talking to those girls earlier. You think she likes you?”

“What?” Catra repeats aloud, quickly dismissing the thought. Adora? Liking Catra? Adora liking Catra like that, then leaving her alone with a black hole of a mother? Yeah, no.

_ Adora liking her as much as Catra likes her back?  _ Somewhere deep inside of her questions, she shakes her head again and pretends that she has squashed that stupid little voice. 

“That’s just Adora,” Catra quickly excuses, “I don’t know, she’s always been like that- can you please leave me alone now?”

Scorpia nods, happy their talk didn’t end with bloody scratches over her arms and face. “Sure, Wildcat,” she moves off the bed and to the door, “just make sure to keep it down, ‘kay?”

Once again, Catra is alone, but now without the eating at her chest but something more resembling wonder.

~~~

Adora’s soul left her body as she watched Catra storm off earlier that evening. Why can’t everything go back to what it used to be? After a moment of silence in music room #2, she joins Glimmer and Bow on their trek to their lockers to collect their things before they head to the car. Since they all live so close together, they choose to carpool, which is unheard of in this wealthy world of image and hot gossip, yet Bow and Glimmer defy the odds of it all; despite never ever having the chance to go on a public bus, or walk into a grocery store, or just about anything that you have to do as what they call a “commoner.”

Adora, as much as they would deny it, has always been on the sidelines of the throuple friendship. That doesn't mean they love her any less, she’s just more of an observer, maybe. It was so easy before, with one friend and everyone else on the outside. Catra was the only one she had to pay attention to and vice versa, maybe it wasn’t the healthiest but neither cared- it was what worked, and would still work if… 

Why is she so stuck in my head? Adora tries her best to shake her off, and come back to Bow and Glimmer’s conversations as they load their bags in the back of the pristine SUV, something about the ball, likely, Glimmer always goes into a party-induced trance weeks before the actual event, but she figures she has to since the majority of it is on her shoulders. When they ask for her opinion on color palettes or streamer shapes, she only nods and agrees with whatever seems to be the most popular between the three. 

Glimmer seems to take notice because when Bow leaves, she pays full force attention to her, shakes her by the shoulders and tells her to snap out of it and that they were going to hang out together, despite all the times Adora insisted that she was fine and she had too much homework to do. Adora, shortly after moving in with the small pink girl, realized that she was a force to be reckoned with, and arguing with her was like yelling at a glittery pink brick wall. So Adora did the only thing she could do: give in.

As soon as their chauffeur pulls into their unmarked pearly driveway, parking shortly at the house’s front for Adora and Glimmer to be able to unload their bags from the back, Glimmer basically drags the larger girl upstairs, yelling at her father to not to disturb them because it was “girl time,” (as Glimmer put it), and locked the door, quickly turning on the Top 100 radio on the surround sound speaker system, not a room in this house wouldn’t be crushed by the autotuned beats Glimmer insisted that they listened to. 

_ “Maybe you’re my love!”  _ she hears Glimmer sing over the radio, a dull aching pounding in her ears over Glimmer’s shrill singing voice,  _ “I wonder if you’re the one/ Sakura Kiss, we could stop time/ And I’d fall in love with you.” _

Adora remembers the song, remembers Catra humming over it as she laced their fingers together, sharing earbuds underneath their favorite tree at the local park, slumping on the sturdy trunk of the tree, and relaxing. Adora had only seen her so calm a handful of times and it was only when everyone else was obscured from their view. When it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world.

… 

“Are you singing?” Adora opens one eye to see Catra, caught dead in the act.

“What! No!” she quickly extricates her fingers from Adora’s and uses her now free hand to tip Adora’s head, she snorts.

“You totally were,” Adora lets out a small chortle, “I didn’t mind it.”

“Whatever,” Catra breathes, wiping her hands on her jeans, “I was just humming.”

“More like purring,” Adora jokes.

“Shut up!” Catra blushes, “why are your hands always so sweaty, by the way, you have some rare condition that comes with your stupid big forehead?”

“Hey!” It's Adora’s turn to blush, covering her forehead from Catra’s judgment with a pale hand, finding that her thumb is just a few centimeters shy of her hairline, causing Catra to break out her high, squeaky laugh. “It’s a normal-sized forehead!”

Adora loves Catra’s laugh, she would record it if she could and keep it as all her ringtones, her alarm in the morning, keep it on repeat like that stupid pop song Catra secretly loved, Adora just hated being the one Catra was laughing at.

… 

“Adora?” Glimmer interrupts her from her daydream. “Hey! We’re supposed to be hanging out! What’s with you, lately?”

“Nothing!” Adora quickly responds, pushing the warm and fuzzy memory down to her stomach, hoping it’ll digest with her dinner. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh, and the sky isn’t blue,” Glimmer smirks. “It’s Catra, isn’t it?”

“What makes you think that?” Adora stammers.

“You’re blushing,” Glimmer points out, using that low, all-knowing voice she has reserved for moments like these.

“It’s just hot in here,” Adora waves her away, “I was just thinking about homework.”

“Oh, and I caught you  _ drooling  _ over homework earlier, huh?”

“Can you please let this go? I do not like Catra!”

Glimmer sees the slight panic in Adora’s eyes and decides to let it go, Adora releases a breath of relief as she changes the subject. “What do you wanna wear to the dance? Suit or dress this time?”

I wonder what Catra will wear, she thinks openly, ignoring the fact that she shouldn’t think about it so much.

“Uh, I don’t know, dress?” Adora responds without thinking, imaging Catra in a little black dress: it falling at her knees, the thick straps wrapping up to hug her neck and showing her cute freckled shoulders, the bustier encapsulating… okay, no more thoughts for today, Adora decides.

Her brain gives her one last image to dream of: her and Catra in each other's arms, swaying to the soft beat of the Waltz, Adora, wearing a form-fitting maroon suit, leading their dance perfectly. A moment just for them, surrounded by the roses they chose to decorate the dance hall with. Before the dance ends, Catra gets on her tip-toes and… 

No more thoughts, Adora says firmly to herself, no more thinking. No more thinking about your estranged best friend who hates your guts in a romcom climax. Nope.

“Can’t I just wear the same dress I wore to the last one? The one with the red and the scarf-y material?”

Glimmer scoffs, “are you kidding me? That’s so out of season… to be completely honest it was never in season,” Glimmer rummages through Adora’s closet, who can’t help but be offended, her fashion taste was just fine. “You have a bunch of dresses you haven’t worn yet! Why can’t you wear this one?”

Glimmer shows her one of her dresses that, in complete and total honesty, Adora didn’t remember buying. It was frilly in all the wrong places, or, in every place. Adora didn’t know much about fashion but she would never ever find that attractive, on anyone, for that matter. “Are you even looking at it? I can’t wear that!”

Glimmer does a double-take quickly shoves it into the crevices of Adora’s closet with an anxious smile, and continuing her search for another dress, Adora can only watch her from her bed, accidentally breaking away to zone out for a few minutes until Glimmer called for her attention again.

The next time she pulls out a dress, Adora decides it's a perfect fit without a second thought. 

~~~

The next day, Catra finds herself in the middle of two girls, fighting over her, deciding who could best teach her how to dance. Catra figured if she needed to learn how to dance, might as well make it into an act and pay off some of her debt. Kill two birds with one stone. “Ladies, ladies,” she pulls them both gently off of her, both looking at her with a soft confusion, “you can take turns, might as well share, right?”

They both blush an aggressive red, nodding their heads in unison, Catra takes one of the girl's hands and pulls them to her own shoulders, resting her hands at the girl's waist. “Remind me of your name again?” Catra whispers low in her ear.

“Aimee…” she stammers, Catra lifts her head from the girls shoulder, giving her a carnivorous smile.

“What a beautiful name you have,” she moves one of her hands from the girl’s waist to her jaw, swiping her thumb on burning, supple skin, then moving it back down to her waist, “shall we get started?”

The girl bobs her head up and down, showing her the simple steps of the waltz. It’s easier than what Catra had imagined, nothing was easy at this establishment, but with these girls wrapped around her pinky, she could get nearly anything she wanted. 

The motions of the dance and numbing: a step forward, sidestep, step back, sidestep, and repeat, twist your partner when you want to rotate, move intertwined hands upward when you would like to spin them and spin. It was a piece of cake.

“Wow, Catra, you’re a natural!” Scorpia says from her seat with Perfuma and some of her clients, Catra switches partners, repeating the same motions with her and giving her a small smirk of acknowledgment. 

She ignores Scorpia but promises herself to thank her later if Scorpia didn’t already know. Catra goes to wonder if Adora was watching, she kept her eyes alternating on the girl dancing with her or at her own footsteps, so she couldn’t see if she was watching. Part of her wanted her to be, another wanted to go back to burying her head into one of her many pillows back home, wearing Adora’s old middle school sweatshirt that still fit her (one of the many things she left behind with Catra), crying and screaming the lyrics to all of the songs that she couldn’t listen to without being upfront about her feelings on the blonde: anger, resentment, sorrow,  _ rejection, crushing heartbreak.  _ Catra will try to stay in the present but it sounds like a good plan for later.

Thinking about how Sparkles will react to her above satisfactory dance moves keeps her in the present with a smirk plastered on her face. She’ll focus on the girl she’s leading, spew bullshit praises in her ear, and keep her hold on her firm and caring, rubbing small circles on her back with her thumb. 

~~~

“She’s good,” Glimmer says, something resembling disbelief and admiration stirred into her tone, stopping her gaze at her clipboard to look up at the dancing girl.

Bow and Adora at one of the tea tables, Adora choosing to keep eating her sandwich rather than looking over, she quickly changes the conversation, “who’s my next client.”

“It’s, uh, one of your usuals,” Glimmer’s baby pink brows squeeze together as she scans her clipboard, littered in Lisa Frank stickers and feminist quotes like  _ “a woman’s place is in the house AND in the senate.”  _ “Ah! Yes! You’re with Khloe today.”

Khloe? “She’s not one of my usuals, she’s usually with Mermista,” Adora states suspiciously.

“Yeah,” Bow joins in on the mystery, “I thought she was Perfuma’s usual.”

“Oh! Not for a while,” Perfuma walks towards them, her arms conjoined with Scorpia’s.

“Okay, whatever, she was somebody’s usual and now she’s Adora’s,” Glimmer concludes the conversation. Breathing out a heavy sigh, “Adora, will you please do your job.”

She doesn’t say anymore and leaves the table, heading over to Khloe, who seems distraught with her tea, she takes a seat next to her. “Everything alright?” Adora asks, light yet cautious; Glimmer has told her on numerous occasions that she shouldn’t worry as much and do her job, but caring _ is  _ her job. Plus, ladies love it when muscular people get all caring, she thinks.

It startles her, “Oh! Yes, I was just thinking about the dance you’re hosting.”

“Will you be joining us?” Adora sits beside her, weaving her arm past the girl's long dark auburn hair and setting it on the shoulder opposite of Adora, keeping her hold soft yet firm. It’s bold but Khloe sinks into it. 

Adora is a notoriously bad actor, but what keeps her from failing is imagining it’s someone else, who takes on a familiar shape, a few inches shorter than her, tawny skin with a lithe figure, long darkish brown ash hair, and eyes the colors of stars close-up, closer than any average human eye can reach.

(No, she doesn’t have a crush on Catra, she just misses her is all.)

“I think so,” Chloe smiles up at her, she reminds Adora of a soft woodland creature: with rosy cheeks, freckles from her forehead down, and the notable scent of floral shampoo wafting from her long, straight hair. “I just have to find the right dress for the occasion.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” Adora asks, pausing to collect her next sentence but taking a moment to look down at her plush lips, “to go with, I mean.”  
(She actually thinks she’s a really good actor, by her methods.)

Khloe plays with the fabric of her skirt, flattery radiating off of her, “no, not quite, I was hoping to dance with you.”

“Well that’s very kind of you,” Adora lets out a breathy laugh, “sadly, as hosts, we cannot go with guests, that would be very, um, impolite of us.”

Her acting fails her, the excuse sounds more like a question rather than an answer but Khloe gets the point. Slowly, she withdraws from Adora’s strong arm, moving all her upper weight to her knees, pushing them down and balancing a cup of tea between her palms.

“That’s alright, it was worth a shot anyway,” Khloe’s unharmed, thank god, “to be completely honest, I only wanted to talk to you because you’re on the soccer team with Marva.”

Disappointment shoots through her, her face goes blue for a second, was she really that bad at taking signals? Was she losing her hostess charm, out of touch? Oh my god, she’s a predator, isn’t she? She’s going to jail, oh fuck, Glimmer isn’t going to let her work here anymore and…  
“Adora?” Khloe pulls her out of her anxiety-induced coma, “you know Marva, don’t you?”

“Yup! That’s me!” quickly squeaks out, losing all sense of dignity, reaching to the heavens mid-anxiety-induced coma and slamming back down to Earth within an instant, “No, not Marva, Adora.”

Khloe goes on unaffected by her behavior, “it took me a while to figure out who-was-who, to be honest, on the team with Marva,” oh- so she really doesn’t like Adora. “That’s why I kept switching, I kept forgetting, but I found you! Do you think you can help me? I really want Marva to notice me at the dance and you’re, like,  _ the king of the school,  _ so, if you could reconsider: would you please dance with me?”

“Uhhhh,” Glimmer was going to kill her if she said yes, “sure.” 

Glimmer will kill her. Technically, the dance was the aftermath of an auction on dances with the Host-Princess suitors, bids where taken with time slots, and the money from the auction partially DID go to charity (hence the name of the charity dance), while the other half was funneled back into the club. It was a little twisted, for sure, but they needed to make money somehow, right? And Adora figured that all of her slots were full but she could squeeze in a very curt dance. 

“It’ll have to be very quick, alright?” she adds, Khloe nods gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Adora!” she moves her empty teacup to the table, standing up gracefully, “I’ll be on my way, now, thank you again!”

She follows Khloe until she makes it out the door, as it is company policy, then quickly heads back to her designated couch, cleaning up the remains on what was supposed to be a successful “date.” 

The dance was at the end of the week, today was Wednesday, Adora remembers. There’s something dull stabbing at her sides, ghosting over her ribs and pressing at her shoulders. She chooses to ignore it and move to her next client, responding to her fears with classic-Adora charisma. She wasn’t known for false fronts, but for now, she could only try.

~~~

The rest of the week flies by, it’s the morning before the big event. Adora can only wait to see what will happen tonight.

~~~

The night was a disaster waiting to happen, Glimmer groans to herself, of course, she knew something was to go wrong but she didn’t expect it to go so bad that she could never wear this dress again, it was torn to the point of no recovery (not even the best seamstress in all of France could fix it, she asked), her makeup inexcusably looking like she sobbed her heart out, and the thousand dollar ice sculpture shattered across the dance floor.

Where could she even begin?

Oh right, the night started with her and Adora running late. She knew two things (at least) about Adora, one: she was definitely hiding something from her, and two: she definitely did not want to go to the dance- the dance she was practically the front of, as soon as Adora made it into music room #2 for the first time, she immediately became the Host-Princess club’s mascot.

Mascot wasn’t the right word, Glimmer was aware, but she knew as soon as the words “Poster Child” left her mouth, Adora wouldn’t be able to get them out of her head, she held herself too highly, too accountable for just about anything.

Especially for Catra, she acknowledged, she saw how Adora watched her like Catra was navigating through a room full of eighty thousand dollar vases with little-to-none remorse of fear of breaking one like she was going to leave the club without a second thought, 

like she was going to break Adora’s heart all over again as if she hasn’t been tearing it apart since the moment she met her again. 

Glimmer is an honors student that handles all the finance of a prestigious school's most funded and known club, of course she knows more than she lets on. But, she also prides herself on being a good friend, and good friends are patient, so she won't push Adora anymore on telling her about Catra.

But she’s damn close if Adora was anymore infatuated they would lose profit, so she was a little scared for this dance already. She had to keep Adora on a tight leash tonight, she had at least thirty girls to dance with, there was no room for drama (Catra), or even a slow thought process (analyzing Catra).

If only Catra joined the club (despite it being forced) sooner, Glimmer would be able to keep her on a tight leash as well and direct her to the other side of the dance floor in order to dance with some clients. She could, Glimmer reconsiders if she wasn’t so terrified of Catra already. Sure, Catra made no hint at wanting her gone, but she saw those nails- that look she has plastered on her face, she couldn’t be so confident. One of Catra’s greatest skills was keeping that dangerous front, but it was also one of her biggest flaws.

She couldn’t be doing this right now, she had to be convincing Adora to put on eyeliner, or some sort of makeup, anything. “Adora, please just let me do your eyeliner- or a light shimmery eyeshadow, please!”

“Why can’t I go bare-faced? It always makes me feel so itchy,” Adora begged.

“Adora, you know why! It’s bad publicity,” Glimmer explained, she shuddered at how antifeminist it was. If it was her choice: Glimmer would say fuck it, wear pajamas, go barefoot, whatever, but it wasn’t her choice. “Please, just light makeup.”

“Fine,” Adora huffed, being compliant, Glimmer got to work.

Not to mention, the drive there was a pain in the ass, and deciding what car to take was even worse. Glimmer and her mother argued constantly, sure, about the dumbest things anyone could argue over ever, but cars was a new one. Something about needing the best one to show up in was debated, then screamed over, Adora ended up having to choose for them.

Picking up Bow then became a hassle, their chauffeur being new and inexperienced in navigating gated communities, and took an unnecessary amount of time to pound in the FOUR digit passcode. Then, Glimmer had to rush in in order to help Bow put on a cumberbund because, no, he was not going naked stomached- very much against school rules and company policy.

Getting there was equally as troublesome, running into some very aggressive traffic and poor drivers. Glimmer thanked whoever was up there that they didn’t need to set up anything when they got there, as the staff they hired already did so (which, infuriatingly, was a whole other thing, because they didn’t understand the differences of curled streamers and coiled streamers). 

Surely, when they got there, Bow, Glimmer, and Adora, had to find a way to sneak themselves in order to avoid the growing crowd of students upfront- as they showed up a whole thirty minutes late to their own dance.

Glimmer nearly screamed loud enough to shatter the hall’s windows once they safely made it in, of course, Catra wasn’t aware of their dress code! Dressed in a maroon suit with matching blazer and slacks, which would be fine if she had a dress shirt on, but instead, she wore a mesh black bodysuit, the only thing keeping her even slightly modest was a black bra. Instead of unleashing her unbridled rage at the girl, she stifled it with an uneven smile. The night couldn’t get any worse, right? Adora might not be able to keep it in her pants, maybe, Bow will be struggling to keep his goddamn cumberbund on, for sure, and Glimmer? She’s experienced enough to keep whatever was itching underneath her skin and bubbling at her throat inside. She’s a manager, after all, a host foremost, a decent actress when it was needed, those are all the qualifications she needed for the night. Everything is going to be fine. 

~~~

Everything is absolutely not fine, Adora thinks honestly as she watches over the dance floor alongside Glimmer and Bow, who is preparing to send her off as an auction bidding prize. Getting there had been a nightmare but nothing could ever be worse than seeing Catra in  _ that.  _ She was sure Catra had already had gotten an earful from Glimmer, or would when everyone is safely out of the venue by the end of the night. Adora couldn’t spend much time on thinking about it, she promised Glimmer her wholehearted attention for all of the night, well, besides that dance she also promised with Khloe, Adora briefly reassures herself that she could make time.

She couldn’t, she later figured out after she saw the long line of girls waiting to accompany her to a dance. Luckily, she had a five-minute break every fifteen dances (which lasted around two minutes each, plus thirty seconds to pry the girl off of her and move onto the next). She was able to leave her invisible station only for a second to find Khloe, which was near impossible- that girl was barely over 5”0.

“Hey Adora,” someone sultrily calls from behind her, maybe two or three feet away from her but her voice was right in the curves of her ear, she flushes nearly immediately. Adora nearly jumps at the ghostly contact.

“Catra!” Adora spins to see the girl, closer up than when she saw her first that night, getting a full view of… 

“Are you looking for something?” her tone was rather flirtatious, especially after their last conversation. 

_ “So please, just do us both a favor and leave me alone.” _

Maybe Catra didn’t remember, didn’t mean it, didn’t even know the definition of the word “alone.”

Oh trust her, Catra knew what the word meant. 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me,” Adora asks bitterly, Catra’s eyes widen for a moment, then return to their default half-lidded stance, she shrugs.

“I figured it’d be fun to mess around with you,” she then pulls at the long piece of carmine tulle fabric on her right shoulder, twirling it between her skillful fingers, “since you look so distracted.”

She practically purrs, Catra, not Adora- never Adora, maybe it was a ghost, whatever- but _ shit!  _ She could not be doing this right now, or ever. She needs to find Khloe, but another idea comes to mind.

_ Wiping that stupid sexy look on Catra’s face by pinning her to the wall behind the concession stand, not quite where anyone could see unless they really looked, and…  _ No! Not that thought. Very strange and impulsive thought, Adora notes.

“Catra,” she places both of her hands on the other girls' clothed shoulders, “can you do me a favor? Please?”

Catra recognizes the weakness and groans at the caving in her knees from it, she says yes for herself before she could force herself to say no.

“I promised this girl- Khloe- a dance, can you dance with her for me? Please? She has auburn hair, pale skin and-”

“Cute lil’ fairy woodland creature features?” Catra concludes, raising a brow, she saw the girl earlier with Adora. “And you want me to find her and dance with her? What’s in it for me?”

Adora stutters for a second, an awkward pause, and eventually giving in when she lets the words fall out of her mouth, “I’ll leave you alone, I guess.”

A pang went through Catra’s heart at the words, but she didn’t let them phase her, at least on the surface. “Good enough for me. I’ll see you around, princess.”

She watches Catra spin on her heel, listening to the short squealing sound her combat boots made when she did, and saunter away. 

~~~

Catra is a primal creature, she’s learned from all the verbal slander over the years: from Weaver, from teachers, from her classmates, so no wonder why she was absolutely enjoying the chaos brought on by this stupid dance. Seeing Glimmer’s reaction was worth millions, but Adora’s was priceless, she practically sweated that stupidly pretty makeup off her face.

Objectively speaking, Adora looks very nice; that dress was a little godly, but it fit her well, and she switched her usual everyday ponytail with a nice half-up hairdo, the majority of her blonde hair up in a thick braid wrapping around the back half of her head, the remnants curled and falling over her broad shoulders, where one was covered by the asymmetrical strap of her dress.   
_“And take your hair out of that stupid ponytail, or all your hair is gonna fall out by the time you’re thirty,”_ a distant memory calls out to her, but she quickly pushes it down.

Another upside: she gets to dance with girls, girls who know what a good distraction is, girls who want to prove themselves to her like she was the one who hung the stars in the sky, the one who could quickly take them away, too. It’s not one of Catra’s most activist forward thoughts, definitely thought she would have to keep to herself if she ever had the chance to gloat over her attractiveness. The least she could do for these girls was pay attention to them, it didn’t take much to get them going, all flustered and coquettish.

Same with Adora, too, she didn’t understand why she had the effect she had on the blond, but she used it to her advantage. Catra was shocked when Adora asked her for one dance in exchange to leave her alone, not dance with her but with that Khloe girl. 

She didn’t know her name until now, but she had spent a generous amount of time studying her, but she’d dance with her, it could’ve been fun. Catra pushed every feeling that had mentioned Adora down to the pits of her deep, dark, and angsty mind and got on with her mission.

Finding her was easy, Catra always had a vision like a hawk, convincing her that she was here on behalf of Adora had proven to be harder.

“So, what happened with Adora?” the girl snaps suspiciously, Catra couldn’t help but groan for the thousandth time in such a short conversation.

“I told you! She has other people she needs to dance with, so she asked me to dance with you instead. I can get the job done, okay?”

Uh oh, that did not sound good in the slightest, Khloe is fuming- her rosacea blending into the rest of her now very red face. 

“So you think I’m  _ that _ desperate?” she puffs, if Catra wasn’t teetering on the edge of petrification, she would find her face and the sight of it all hilarious, sadly, she was the one about to get slapped and a slap she got.

“Get away from me, creep!” Khloe storms off, Catra doing the same only to save herself from hundreds of questioning peers.

Catra found herself on the deserted balcony, rubbing her freshly red cheek out of instinct, it's been a while since she last got slapped, maybe it was a sign from the universe, telling her to stay on her toes. Glimmer would have it with her later, that’s for sure, Catra must have broken another rule, broken some implicit company boundary- done something wrong.

She’s always doing something wrong, Catra notes, it comes with being such a primal being, maybe, that’s what she’ll tell herself. She’s bitter, chaotic, an absolute loveless redeemable disaster.

Just before she can hate on herself any further, she hears a coy, “that was quite a show, kitten.”

She had only heard the voice a handful of times but boy, it stayed with her. Something like raw honey, so performative yet so bittersweet, Double Trouble. She spun around from her position against the polished handrail, eyeing them up and down.

They must have broken some rule too because no one should be allowed to come to a dance looking this good: wearing a shimmery millennial pink dress, its neckline dipping low to reveal their flat chest, a slit accompanying it along the right side, traveling up to a few inches just shy of their defined hip bone. To keep warm, a cropped and frayed white blazer with little embellishments like war medals across the chest pocket. Their green eyes and olive skin accentuated with some shimmer and body oil, Catra couldn’t help study their adversary’s appearance- it came naturally to her, after all.

“You’re staring,” they both knew it to be true, but Catra still defended herself with a rushed “not true!”

She turns away from them once again, letting them decide whether or not they could deal with a potentially very soul Catra. She waits a beat, feeling the surveying gaze of Double Trouble, she hears them take a few steps forward and slide next to Catra's side, deciding to watch the dance unfold behind her, close enough to hear every jump in her breath.

Something about them made Catra anxious, kept her expecting and craving more, even at third meeting. Something she found once in Adora, now in them. They’re total opposites, Adora’s too stuck in her head, too limited, but Double Trouble? They were endless, unpredictable, Catra wouldn’t say reckless but maybe she wanted to see that side of them, despite the likability that they were just an enemy to be made, Catra wanted it.

They breathed down her neck, “don’t worry about the crowd, as I said before: they move on quickly, they’re attention span is shorter than a goldfish's’!”

She lets out a strained chuckle, drinking in the effort their making, she chooses not to speak but letting her hollow laugh do her response.

“Would you like to dance?” they ask after the light moment.

“Right now?” Catra asks almost as if to dare, seeing how far they’ll go with her, looking at them for the first time since they had come over to her.

“We’re at a dance, aren’t we?” they offer her their hand, it layered with unique silver rings and topped off long polished nails.

She accepts, letting herself be pulled in and led in a slow waltz. She hadn’t been touched like this in so long, she confesses, quickly realizing that all those practice dances and suggestive touches never left her feeling so helpless. She was supposed to be the host or even a princess, wasn’t she never supposed to feel this way?

“What are you thinking about, kitten?” they question, “do you need me to tell you what an amazing dancer you are? Does your ego need to be fed?”

She slaps them lightly on their shoulder, playing a defensive smile, “we’re barely even dancing, I don’t know, all those dances with the girls earlier were so much more…”

“Performative?” they finish for her, she just nods, letting her head rest in the crook of their slender shoulder. 

“Yea,” she murmurs, “you smell really nice.”

They hummed in response, carding their knowing fingers through Catra’s short, slicked back hair, ignoring the gel, and searching for the small curls just above the nape of her neck.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” it knocks her off any guard she has left, no one has called her beautiful in so long, or at least no one actually meant it.

“Thanks,” she breathes out.

“You know, my offer still stands on a date,” their dance is soon coming to an end, Catra just wants to stay with them for a little longer, so they raise, “we could get out of here, there’s an after party at some lacrosse player’s house.”

Catra pulls away from their neck, letting her pupils blow out, “can I, uh, give you a rain check?”

Of course, she still had responsibilities tied to this damn dance, Double Trouble lets go and nods, “just find me, okay? I’ll wait.”

No one has searched and found her in so long, Double Trouble has seemingly found her out so easily- it was painful, maybe even pathetic, but she didn’t mind. She watches them walk away, soon following after a breath of fresh air.

The dance room is cold, despite all the body heat, in spirit- it’s unwelcoming, asking too much of her, but not letting her in. She accepts that she’ll never be a person for this school, for these people, but she can do her best and be their pet, she could learn how to deal but never fit in.

So, she dances a few more rounds, she learns a few new faces, shines some award-winning carnivorous smiles, she makes some more heads roll, she does her best to not let her anxieties swallow her whole, but it’s always a little too late for her to escape when they do. They find her, wait for her just around the corner, jumpscare her randomly, not filling any of her plotlines well enough, she’s left uneven, dented, by the end of each narrow escape from it- only to be weakened when it's on her tail again. 

No, she won’t let it show, not to Scorpia, to Adora or her sparkly friends, or even Double Trouble, instead, she’ll dance, she’ll laugh, she’ll smile, and she’ll compartmentalize. She can hide under that mask of indifference, of havoc-bringing, she can be that primal creature so many people want her to be.

Towards the end of the night, she finds herself at one of the food tables, closest to the looming ice tower of what appears to be a swan, with Scorpia and Perfuma, who had somehow snuck past Glimmer and made it to her girlfriend, listening to them bounce off one another and pick at the charcuterie. 

“I think this one is strawberry cheesecake,” Scorpia raises, placing one on her plate.

“No, I think it’s raspberry coconut, aren’t you allergic?” Perfuma asks.

“Oh! You’re totally right, do you want it?” Scorpia hands her it, “you’re so intuitive!”

They had come matching, Catra couldn’t tell if it was purposeful or just because they were so in sync. Scorpia wore a deep crimson velvet set, a vest in replacement for where a dress shirt should be, but not bending the theme of modesty, while Perfuma wore a long plunging flowy dress, similar in shade to Scorpia’s suit, layered with wine tulle and floral embellishments, they complemented one another well.

“Catra? You in there?” Scorpia taps her shoulder, snapping her out of her trance, “sorry, hah, I was just wondering if you wanted this raspberry coconut, uh, thingy?”

“Sure,” she responds quietly, picking it from her plate and chewing on it quietly (probably not following some eating etiquette).

“Are you alright?” Perfuma’s brows knit together, searching Catra’s blank stare for any discrepancies. 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Catra!” someone is yelling at her,  _ I thought she’d leave me alone. _

Scorpia and Perfuma got the message and poofed away, giving an angry Adora and an absent Catra space to talk, she was grateful they got the message. Quickly, Catra put on some version of her trademark facade and waited quizzically for Adora.

“Yes, princess?” 

“What happened with Khloe?” she asks calmly with a hint of that classic Adora interrogation, Catra can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, what? She didn’t tell you that she bitch slapped me?”

“I figured you did something to provoke her,” Adora explains, obviously, crossing her arms in waiting for an explanation. It makes Catra’s blood boil.

“You really don’t have that much faith in there for me, huh?” Catra accuses her.

“What did you do?” the blonde presses.

“I didn’t do anything!” absolutely exasperating. “I explained to her the situation, she called me a creep, slapped me, and I don’t know what happened after that… what did you want me to do, dance with her against her will?”

“I don’t know,” a beat, two, even. “Maybe!”

“Well, sorry I “provoked her,” I guess,” Catra starts to walk away but Adora tugs her back in, keeping an unyielding grasp on her wrists.

“I saw you dancing,” Adora starts.

“Yup, that was kind of my job tonight, idiot.”

“...with Double Trouble,” Adora concludes, Catra’s eyes shrink to the size of pinpricks.

Of course, she couldn’t have a moment to herself, she screams at herself for thinking she could, the most private moment she’s had with someone in months (which is pathetic, already) has been ripped wide open, exposed to Adora’s icy eyes and her all seeing judgment. 

Eyes were on them, she could see in her periphery, not to mention they were dangerously close to that ominous ice sculpture, which already seemed to be split from all the distress.

“You’re obsessed with me,” Catra laughs, completely hollowed out, its noise rumbling through her core, shaking in her vocal tunnels, drying whatever moisture in her body up. 

“I am not obsessed with you,” Adora tries to reason, failing horrifically.

“Why were you watching us?” Catra pushes, nearly physically into that stupid ice swan thing, she goes even further, “why can’t I be happy without you?”

“I…” Adora tries, by the time it dies on her tongue, her friends have come to back her up.

Bow keeps a firm hand on Catra’s shoulder, nearly booming (in the nicest, most Bow way possible): “what’s going on here?”

_ Yeah, Adora, what is going on here?  _ “I don’t know, actually, but I do know that Adora’s obsessed with me!”

“Probably because she knows you’re up to something,” Glimmer asserts herself past Bow, now up in Catra’s personal space.

“Oh, I’m up to something?” Catra scoffs, “of course you think I’m the bad guy here.”

“I know about you!” Glimmer grabs the lapels of her blazer, “I know what you put Adora through, I know your story, so don’t act like I can’t see through that…”

Catra can’t listen to any more bullshit, she spins on her heels and shoves Glimmer off of her, her nails, oh shit, dig into Glimmer’s dress, slashing it across its chest. The swan, caving in above Glimmer, everything’s suddenly going so slow and so fast- Catra can’t move but she can’t stop moving, everything has suddenly become a series of little contradictions wrapped in a big bow of  _ “What the Fuck”  _ and Adrenaline. Catra commands her body to move, wrapping one arm around Glimmer’s waist and yanking her away from the collapsing sculpture, her dress being pulled at by one of its sharp wings, tearing even more at the dress’ infrastructure.

Another vase. Well, it’s not a vase- it’s actually significantly worse, this time, a whole ass fucking swan, in a crowded dance room. Surely, there are people screaming, gasping, crying, videotaping, calling their chauffeurs to pick them up. Catra can’t hear them over the rush of blood in her ears, before Adora, or Bow, or Sparkles can say anything, she runs as fast as she can out of the hall, pushing past hordes of people, she’s going through one of the many corridors, she can only momentarily hear whispers, gossip slowly slithering its way through the school, then, Catra finds herself outside, letting the harsh summer air tear her apart. She’s panting, she’s sweating, and she’s probably crying, but she doesn’t care, can’t care, because she sees them, against a pillar, giving her that carnivorous stare that she’s so used to possessing.

“You ready to go,” they offer out their hand for the second time that night.

And again, she takes it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~  
> Adora’s Dress: https://pin.it/132RqFm   
> Glimmer’s Dress: https://pin.it/5722spH   
> Catra’s suit: https://pin.it/269kKab   
> Scorpia’s suit: https://pin.it/5MXJIBJ   
> Perfuma’s dress: https://pin.it/3IuxuZs   
> Double Trouble: I literally can’t find any dress that is even similar to the one I wrote about and trust me i’ve tried so you’re just gonna have to use that imagination of urs im sorry (or if someone wants to draw fanart that’d be fucking sick :3).   
> ~~~  
> Spotify Playlists:   
> ofFICial playlist ;3 (still in the works): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0rJ960X3CqVHjCDcDWJsgz?si=MkGMZSXCSfurQpNGd7dlGQ  
> catra's spite playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2arP5VxLNPKDIolggX8a5n?si=zpsD7zeAQ8Cv185lynHLIA  
> catradora playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4DdOJR9UJiumdYBo0EsjBA?si=QSiSXzZSQ_Kc2ne75jlGGQ   
> catrouble playlist (still in the works): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2desYgIQVAWWsgDje3cweN?si=OYi2c_SoQe6f3a9TtUqUug   
> ~~~  
> Find me!  
> Twitter: identiddycrisys  
> Tik Tok: ohmaternal  
> ~~~  
> Q: what's ur comfort food atm?  
> A: probably sesame chicken i had it like two days in a row and its all i can think abt XD or a rosemary bagel w cream cheese yum


	4. Attack of the Two-Faced Actor!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the dance haunts the host club, causing them to bring in Double Trouble for assistance, but obviously, it does not go as planned because why would it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for not updating for a hot sec, I knew I had to update tho before it haunted me in my sleep. With school in full swing, I won't able able to post as much- or continue for a while, which absolutely breaks my heart because this fic has been my recent love and true joy. As much as I love it, I am ignoring all my duties as an art student and as it is my senior year, I need to be doing those duties. If chapter four gets enough interaction, I'll likely be able to post a brief chapter five before I start my hiatus- so please, leave kudos and comments! I love them all so much.

Adora stood in disbelief, watching only with her eyes but refusing to grasp any of what had happened, she took Glimmer as she were to carry a bag with no handles and pushed her way through the crowd. Before she left, she gave Bow a look of _“you take care of this,”_ she figured he was the one with the most brain function at that moment.

Getting in the car, their chauffeur fortunately on time, Adora takes Glimmer in her arms once more and runs her hand down her back soothingly and repeatedly. She lets her head rest on top of Glimmer’s, both of their dresses thoroughly ruined from the night, Adora’s now soaked with Glimmer’s tears.

She knew the night was not going to go well but she didn’t expect it to go this bad. There was no way this was possible, right? They must be in some comedy, doesn’t this always happen in those? Laughable jealousy (she’d admit it, for tonight), big balls, ruined dresses, destroyed venues- this was some big joke made by the executive producers of the universe, it had to be.

Adora woke up the next morning, however, with the understanding that this was indeed real, as were the near two hundred text messages and calls from her friends.

_Mermista (23 new text messages)_

_Bow (73 new text messages) (50 missed calls)_

_Scorpia (10 new text messages)_

_Perfuma (15 new text messages)_

There were more, from her teammates, witnesses who had messaged her, one probably a _goodnight_ text from Frosta an hour before the whole incident had ever happened (she had a streak for leaving dances early, free of charge, because she had an impeccable sleep schedule and no one wanted to deal with a grumpy Frosta). 

She checked Bow’s first, the earliest messages being updates on the dance situation, letting her know that he got home safe, proceeding to go into clumps of rapid-fire speed texts in hopes of rousing response from Adora (some being a simple “A-D-O-R-A” or just “HDUFGFSJNDKWDI”), then finishing off with a polite “text me when you wake up, love you <3.”

_Adora: I’m up._

She quickly got a response from him, not being able to move onto the next set of messages.

_Bow: is Glimmer alright?_

Adora hadn’t even realized the girl in question had fallen asleep in her bed, makeup smeared across her face but her clothes changed, switching a failed dress with one of Adora’s large jerseys. When they had gotten home, Angella thankfully well into her twelve-hour sleeping period, both figured it was best to steal a forgotten bottle of wine from the wine cellar, flushing out all their worries with the bittersweet taste, screaming at the object of all their collaborative drunk anger. Adora didn’t bother saying her name. One memory that she remembers most is that Glimmer’s anger barely subsided when she threw Catra’s bag into the fountain, and honestly, she couldn’t even be upset.

_Adora: she’s a little hungover and still asleep but i think she’ll be fine_

_Bow: ???_

_Adora: we snuck into the wine cellar_

_Bow: oh okay_

_Bow: are you okay?_

Her fingers hover over the screen, she could talk about how she let her emotions get the best of her, how she had never felt something so intense, or how that fiery feeling was quickly tampered down with those icy glares and that stupid fucking sculpture.

_Adora: yea im good_

_Adora: I don’t think Glimmer’s gonna go to school this week_

_Adora: if Angella will let her stay home_

_Bow: should I come over?_

_Adora: maybe. let glim text u first_

_Bow: what about the club?_

Adora pauses, neither her or Bow could run (knowing from experience), if they wanted to get anything done this week, they would have to hire someone to get anything done.

_Adora: cant we get a sub or something ? to run_

_Bow: no :/ since its not technically a school managed club we cant_

Technically, they were supposed to have a teacher in charge, but somehow Angella pulled some strings while she ran the club and made it so that whoever managed was in charge of everything. Sure, it was good for most occasions, they could do pretty much anything they wanted… but they were particularly screwed in this field. Adora chews on her lip.

_Adora: shit_

_Bow: yeah_

_Bow: I mean we kinda have another option_

_Adora: who_

_Bow: Scorpia. Shes not a member but she knows enough to be helpful._

_Adora: does she even have experience?_

… 

“Scorpia, do you even have any, uh, managerial experience?” Catra asks skeptically and biting, Adora hears it cut through the hazy fog that had become a numbing battlefield. 

To be completely honest, she doesn’t even remember her weekend, neither Glimmer nor Adora made an effort to leave her bed unless it was to sneak more alcohol or grab junk food from the pantry. And from the looks of it, the only one in a good mood was Scorpia, the rest of the host club glaring at the voice from the other side of the room, of course, Catra.

“Sure I do!” Scorpia chirped, “I mean, I’m an heir to a prosthetics company, of course, I have to know some things.”

“Yes,” Bow adds, “since Glimmer is out sick, I figured it would be best if we brought someone from outside of the club to run it temporarily and Scorpia was happy to help.”

Catra gives her a strange look but doesn’t bother with a snippy response, just a small groan and a confuzzled look. She remains rested against one of the music room’s pillars, keeping her once lost shades on, as if to say _“you no longer have permission to see this part of me,”_ like the asshole she is. 

“First things first, we need to fix our reputation.”

“What’s wrong with our reputation?” Frosta pipes up, the room unanimously groans.

“What, you didn’t hear? Catra, here, picked a fight with Adora, who’s very much lying to us about who she is, and threw Glimmer into an ice sculpture!” Mermista points at the two girls from opposing sides of the room.

“I did not do that!” “I’m not lying!” Catra and Adora said in near unison, leaving the room in awkward silence.

“Really? Cause you seem kinda close with Catra, especially after just meeting her…” Mermista interrogated.

“I just want to help her with the club!” Adora stammers, Catra gives the tense crowd that squeaky high-pitched laugh that Adora loves (in usual cases), the crowd breaks away from the blonde and snaps their attention towards the laughter.

“Wow, so they really don’t know anything, huh?” Catra says smugly.

“What do you mean we don’t know?” Mermista studies Catra.

“Oh, that Adora isn’t all that she makes herself out to be,” she purrs, “she’s just some girl from the…”

“Dark pasts,” Scorpia interrupts, deep in thought. “That’s how we can fix our reputation! We write an angsty narrative!”

“You’re still on that?” Frosta snips.

“Yes, honey, that’s a great idea!” Perfuma immediately rushes to her girlfriend’s side, happy to break away from a potential full host club fight, “where do we start?”

~~~

Catra’s weekend was an endless series of flashing lights, bursts of colors, tastes, experiences, laughter, crying, fights, kisses, and making up. She hadn’t made it home until that Sunday night, having spent the entire weekend with Double Trouble with her phone dead, she hadn’t even seen Scorpia until the morning before school started.

“Where were you?” Scorpia interrogated on the way to school.

“Does it matter?” Catra rubbed her eyes groggily, thankful that Scorpia had covered for her, but that didn’t mean Catra had made it out of the woods. She owed Scorpia the truth.

So, she told her, how Double Trouble whisked her away from the dance, how they bounced from after-party to after-party, how they egged a kid’s house just ‘cuz, how they successfully stole liquor from a grocery store, ran from security, then made out and slept in the nearby park playground’s slide. How Catra let herself be held that night, told them things she hadn’t told anyone in so long, learned that Double Trouble had more wigs than Kylie Jenner (whoever that was, she could get used to their pop culture references) and a truckload of liquid latex, letting them slip into any disguise in order to get any acting role.

_“Do you have it on right now,” Catra stroked their cheek, testing the skin their with a soft scrape of her nail._

_“Have what on right now? A disguise?” Catra hummed, responding to the firm caress they have on the side of her neck._

_“No. Not with you, darling.”_

What Catra didn’t tell her was how she hadn’t felt something like this since Adora, and even then, nothing so uncontrollable like this. Catra was chaotic, a primal creature, always alone, but she had just found some match of energy, another unattended match.

“So, are you guys, like, official?” Scorpia asked cutely.

“Nah,” she took a sip from her coffee, but she liked the thought of it, “at least, not yet.”

“What about Adora?”

“What do you mean about Adora? I told you, it’s not like that! I don’t like Adora!”

Scorpia gave her that look, the one where she could see every thought connecting in her small head, that Catra had a tendency to lie and self destruct, and this weekend could be shown as an example of that and that Adora’s more in her head than she originally thought. Hell, maybe it was Catra thinking that, not Scorpia. Whatever, no Adora talk, at least until club.

Which brings them to now, the club's undivided attention on Catra and her relation to Adora. Maybe they don’t deserve to know, Catra tells herself, or maybe telling them will make them like her (because, that’s right! Catra cares! But only to the tiniest degree). She lets her hollowed-out chortle speaks for itself: Adora is definitely not who she says she is. 

Luckily for the blonde, she narrowly escaped the questions by Scorpia’s dumb idea. Catra could only follow along. Their dark and grueling pasts threatening to boil over with Scorpia’s plan, Catra and Adora made a mutual agreement, translated through glares and glances, to not say anything, creating some false narrative for Scorpia to pick at. Sure, they all knew she was a commoner, but they didn’t know to what extent, and as for Adora, they were damn close to cracking the case wide open. 

… 

_Catra: hey_

_DT: glad to see ur not dead lmao_

_Catra: stfu_

_DT: u need sumthg, kitty?_

_Catra: uh yea actually do u mind coming the club_

_Catra: scorp wants to give us dark pasts to help w our rep_

_Catra: i thot of u cuz ur into that kind of shit_

_Catra: not bc i like u_

_DT: calm down kitten ill be there in 15 ;3_

… 

“First off,” Double Trouble starts, their hands clapped together, “thank you so much for having me here and trusting me,” their gaze briefly flicks over to Adora, then Catra. “I believe that trust is very important, and if we’re going to implement completely _fictional_ pasts into each and every one of your characters, we need to trust one another, got it?”

The club nods unanimously and hums in agreement.

“We should start with archetypes,” they pull up a whiteboard, already decorated with a poorly done drawing of the host’s faces, courtesy of Scorpia. 

“Adora? You’re the lonesome prince, obviously,” they write a hurried _“LONESOME PRINCE”_ next to the drawing of her face. “You have everything you could ever imagine, riches, women, power, but no one truly knows you! Play this into your acting, make it seem like every girl you're talking to is your first love, be desperate! Be bold!”

Adora groans but follows along.

“Bow? You’re the club's sweetheart, you’re the first love type,” they explain, furthering their explanation, the role seems to fit Bow like a glove.

They move onto Mermista and Frosta, how they’ve been raised to compete yet protect one another, that they refuse to let anyone in (or so they’re told), really it’s all a gimmick, emotional manipulation, to make their clients believe that they’re the only ones who can be let in, thus causing a massive outbreak of swooning.  
It’s nice to see them so passionate, Catra thinks and instantly recognizes she’s letting herself fall too fast, burn too bright. She looks over to Adora, watching that familiar giddy look on her face, her face phasing in and out of that look of concentration (the one where her tongue pokes out stupidly), trying to get her act right. She remembers that Adora knew her more than she ever knew herself, and she still held that knowledge to herself, that she still wanted to be there for Catra, and that maybe Catra wanted to be there for her too, as moronic as it sounded. 

Even worse, whatever was lit inside Catra when she looked at Double Trouble was only given more fuel when she watched Adora.

Times shift, she can’t remember much but she can hear Double Trouble, excitedly speaking to the members on their new roles. Eventually, they all leave, and Catra is snapped back to reality with the actor in front of her. 

“So,” Double breaks her away from her thoughts, “how am I doing?”

“Eh, so-so,” Catra jokes with a shit-eating grin on her face, they shove her shoulder lightly.

“Okay but seriously!” they start, “I want your friends to like me.”

“I would hardly call them my friends, plus, didn’t you know them all before I even went here?”

“Ugh, you’re making this a lot harder for me than it has to be,” they bend down to her level, she’s ramrod straight. “Who’s blessing do I have to get to _court_ you.”

She very awkwardly wedges her arms between her and them, letting out a very awkward chuckle. _“Court?”_ she reiterates, continuing that very strange laugh of hers, “what are you, fifty?”

“I’m serious,” they silence her. “I really like you, Catra, and whatever I have to do, I’ll do it.”

An explosion. Fireworks. Asteroids hitting Earth. Catra covers it up well, “Scorpia, then,” she’s trying so hard to think, “I’ll ask Bow, too, I think there’s probably some rule on it.”

Double Trouble gives her a soft smile, quietly removing their hand from her arm, which Catra barely even noticed was there, and walks away, moving onto Perfuma, who is not doing a phenomenal job with her role as a tough girl on the outside with a candy interior (it was more of the other way around, Catra is convinced that they gave her that role only for the sake of some club disharmony). 

~~~

“Hey, Scorpia?” Adora hears from another table.

“What’s up, DT?” Scorpia responds with her usual enthusiasm, Adora sees out of the corner of her eye that the taller girl is struggling to juggle her folders and clipboard in her hands.

“I was wondering,” Double Trouble pulls them to the side, using a hushed voice, “if it’d be alright if I took Catra out on a date?”

“Oh!” Scorpia dropped her clipboard assorted files, “sorry! Butterfingers,” she excuses herself with a laugh, “you just caught me so off guard, shouldn’t you be asking Catra, first?”

“What can I say? I’m old school,” they jest, “I asked her too, I just wanted your blessing.”

She can’t hear the girl’s response, she prays it's in Adora’s favor, one of the girls she’s hosting is looking up at her with puppy dog eyes.

“Adora, are you there?” she asks quietly.

“Yes!” she jolts up, extricating herself from the girl's grasp, “I just need to do something really quick, if you’ll excuse me, m’lady.”

The girl giggles as Adora kisses her hand, spewing some flowery bullshit, and walking over to the offender.

“Double Trouble?” Adora taps them on the shoulder, distracting them from their conversation with a few of the girls.

“Yes, darling?”

“I was wondering if you could help me with some of my, uh, ac’h’ting,” Adora lies, painfully, “in the, uh, storage closet.”

“You want me to help you with your acting? In the storage closet?” they repeat, skeptically.

“Yes! I’m hitting, uh, a block!”

They sigh, “whatever you say.”

They follow her into the storage closet, she locks the door and they wait.

“Well?” they ask nonchalantly, “are you gonna tell me what your deal is, or is this actually about your _ac’h’ting.”_

“What’s your motive with Catra?” Adora interrogates standoffishly. 

“Ah, so you really are as obsessed as kitten says,” they jut their hip out.

“I am not obsessed!” Adora exclaims, her hands flying to her ponytail rather dramatically in an attempt to soothe herself, taking note to their pet name like a shot of acid. “I just don’t want to see Catra hurt.”

“Because you always have to be the one to save her?” they poke, “didn’t know your complex needed that much feeding.” 

“Uh-”

“Piece of advice, maybe let her live her life. She’s not over you, y’know, and I really don’t know what your deal is but my tarot cards tell me that you’re bad news, but it’s up to her to decide if she wants you and clearly she doesn’t.” 

She’s not over me? Adora is speechless, Double only continues.

“Let Catra be a big girl, if she says yes that’s her decision, I’m not going to force her to do anything,” they bite, unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Oh, it appears we have an audience,” they state apathetically, giving Adora leeway to exit the storage closet.

“What were you doing in there?” Bow questions with panic. From the back of the host-princess club crowd, she watches Catra shove her face into her hands.

“Yeah, Adora,” Mermista sneers, “you’ve been acting super sus lately.”

“I have not!” she covers for herself, very suspiciously, “I was just asking Double Trouble for help!”

“In a grimy storage closet?” Mermista presses.

“Yup!” Adora stammers, wiping her hands on her slacks.

“Yeah, we don’t believe that. What are you hiding, Adora?”

“Why don’t we not pry into Adora’s complicated past!” Bow says, trying to help.

“Who said she had a complicated past in the first place? So you really are hiding something!” Perfuma points, the crowd agreeing.

Adora looks to Catra, who can’t bring herself to saying anything. She doesn’t look angry, maybe disappointed, with a hint of sympathy, understanding why she didn’t want her peers to know the truth. Still, a heap of disappointment. Adora ignores the arguing just to watch her miscolored eyes watch her back. 

“Guys!” Scorpia yells, everyone turns to her in shock, “can we please stop prying to others' personal lives? As manager, I implement that we respect other people's boundaries! Okay?”

Everyone nods shamefully and disperses, some apologizing to Adora as they make their way back but Catra stays, looking her up and down, shaking her head, and returning to her spot with some of her clients. 

“I promise you,” Double Trouble starts, rather formally, “I’m not planning on breaking your daughter’s heart.” 

They give her a small solute before going to do whatever they are supposed to do next. Adora gives herself the courtesy of letting all the pressure she’s kept on her shoulders leave.

~~~

“Yo, Arrow Boy!” Catra says as she saunters up from behind him, watching his shoulders deflate.

“What do you want, Catra?” she recognizes an unfamiliar bitterness in his tone.

It comes out of her mouth before she even expects it, “I’m sorry. For the party, I mean.”

It takes him by surprise, “you did the best you could. Thanks for saving Glimmer, but I have a feeling that’s not why you’re here.”

“Uh, yeah… I was wondering what the “company’s policy” is on dating.”

He sighs, “technically, you’re allowed to date as long as it's not with another host, but we kindly request that you keep it well under wraps. To be honest, I wouldn’t, especially if you’re trying to get back at Adora.”

“I am not trying to get back at Adora!” she snaps, Bow shies away a bit- she pinches the bridge of her nose until whatever anger that was rising in her simmers back down. “We were never like that.”

“I don’t think Adora knows that,” Bow says slowly, “but I don’t think she knows that she doesn’t know that.”

Catra grunts, “what?”

“Adora is completely unaware of her feelings, over anything, it’s been really hard getting to know her because she’s so stuck in her head!” Bow explains, “I don’t think she really understands why she’s been like this, with you.”

“Like what?” she’s missing something, vital to the information she’s been given.

“You mean it isn’t obvious?” 

Adora’s been obvious plenty, but this time her intentions were unclear- Catra was sure it was because she was just trying to make her life miserable, or something. “No?”

Bow placed his hands on each of her shoulders, pressing down as he exhaled, “so you’re both super oblivious, huh?”

Okay, rude- Catra opened her mouth to speak, quickly being shushed by Bow- who was off her shoulders and grabbing his school bags. “I’ll let you figure it out yourself, but if you really like this person, go for it.”

He leaves her before she can say anything else. Deciding not to dwell on her thoughts, Catra makes a move.

~~~

They weren’t easily shaken, or at least they did their best not to be, however their meeting with Adora seemed to teeter the edge of questionable morality. Adora was obviously very in love with Catra (duh) and had been for possibly years (maybe even a decade, at least), while Catra was in the dark, but not for long.

Their plan was a little hazy, too many ideas coming from all directions, too little red yarn to connect the pieces, but Double Trouble was very close to completing (at least) step one, 

As in very close, very close to the subject needed to complete step one. They watch Catra as she tries her best to regulate her movements, instead of a rushed run, she chooses a subtle saunter- doing her best to act casual. She does her best not to make eye contact with them but her eyes have nowhere else to go, while Double Trouble waits patiently with the most toned-down version of a shit-eating grin.

They had to admit, spending a weekend with Catra was rather romantic, they had enjoyed her company. They hoped that there were no hard feelings in the end. They were really trying to stay neutral if anything, but a little voice cooed at them: _you like her, don’t you?_

They stepped on the thought immediately, burned it to a crisp, threw it at the bottom of the ocean. Whatever Catra was to this project, not quite knowing the details, Double Trouble could _not_ like her back.

“Hey,” Catra says, rather shyly, “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me earlier.”

“Hmm? I can’t seem to remember,” they jested, keeping their cool facade.

Knowing it’ll get a rise out of her, she falls right into their trap, “ugh, y’know…”

“I actually don’t, Mrs. Princess,” her blush only rises, reaching to the tip of her ears, “care to enlighten me?”

Then, she does the unexpected, she kisses them.

They’ve kissed before (they’ve kissed A LOT, some preteens doing their best to accomplish vandalizing a local park were definitely traumatized), but it still took them off guard. She kisses them with so much fervor and passion, if they were just another girl in some romcom, this would make them swoon. But to clarify, they. Are. Not. Swooned.

Not in the middle of the courtyard, as the sun sets, as the birds fly over them so freely, and the world is given them a moment completely to themselves. Not swooned. On mission.

But, nonetheless, they kissed back with equal intensity until Double Trouble was sure Catra’s lungs had shriveled up.

“Does that answer your question?” Catra smirks and they’re completely dumbfounded. “I’ll take _that_ as a yes,” asshole. “Meet me at my place, Thursday at seven.”

She walks away and they are nearly completely helpless, standing there in a deserted courtyard as the sun is kissing the horizon, but they still are on a mission. 

~~~

_DT: she said yes._

_Es: Good. Continue to plan._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the closest Catra has even been to catching a break.
> 
> ~~~ catch up with me!~~  
> Twitter: identiddycrisys  
> Tik Tok: ohmaternal  
> ~~~~  
> Spotify Playlists:  
> Catrouble, But Make It Double: spotify:playlist:2desYgIQVAWWsgDje3cweN  
> Fic Playlist: spotify:playlist:0rJ960X3CqVHjCDcDWJsgz  
> ~~~~  
> Q: How are you doing? Feel free to vent in the comments and I'll do my best to leave advice or just comfort.  
> A: To be honest, a little lethargic and apathetic, I can't get any work done and I can't seem to care :/ but things are looking up! Just gotta keep moving and doing what you love when you can!  
> ~~~  
> Till next time!


	5. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get some other perspectives.
> 
> HUGE TW! For Substances, specifically, weed and binge drinking being a high focus of the second half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Long time no read. I saw a comment from one of my older posts that guilted me into posting tonight- I figured I would treat ya'll to a little something (it's not much I'm sorry). I think for now, I am on a hiatus, or at least with this fic because it's a lot more effort than any other projects as of currently. I have a side catrouble scene in the works if that piques your fancy ;3 , and I'm also working on a post-series, canon-compliant one shot series. Anyways, that's enough vocalizing plans for now, please read, comment, kudos, brutally bully me- what not!

_ Dear Diary, _

_ Oh boy! Okay, wow, a  _ _ LOT _ _ has happened!!! I don’t even know where to start because there’s so much. It’s like I’m in a TV show, or some indulgent trash tv fanfiction (btw i cant EVEN with the new season of Riverdale it's  _ _ UNBELIEVABLE _ _ \- catra wont let me talk to her about it so ill just tell you… ) _

_ Right! My recent occurrences, I was the manager! Of! The! HOST CLUB!!! Only for a week, they told us Glimmer got sick but i'm not super convinced, she's really good at not getting sick… when i met her mom she was a  _ _ TOTAL GERMAPHOBE! _ _ So it just has to pass down, right? I think it has to do with the dance, our hired media spectator, Double Trouble (so much there too) I overheard them tell her she nearly dropped 150 followers after the dance. Honestly tho, no one can even remember after what happened w DT and Catra- I guess I haven’t told you but they’re the school’s  _ _ HOTTEST COUPLE!!!  _ _ Go them honestly, such a power couple…. _

_ And I know what you’re thinking: “Scorp-ster, didn’t  _ _ YOU _ _ have a crush on Catra?” pshhh okay! I totally did and she’s super awesome and now her hair has reached this mullet (shag??) length and its super hot blah blah blah WHATEVER! But I’m absolutely over it and I’m with Perfuma now….  _

_ Which btw has been  _ _ FIVE MONTHS!!!!!!  _ _ I just met her parents and everything! Last week, I took her to the floral gardens show and she LOVED IT! We’re planning to move out together once we graduate, the colleges we wanna go to are super close. I can’t imagine NOT marrying her, I’m sure we’re already married now in some Lesbian Clause.  _

_ Right, Catra- more on her. I’m worried. Her and Adora have gotten way worse. The reason why her and DT are even the school’s hottest couple is because Adora accidentally kinda told everyone? Catra won't really talk about it, she's still really mad about it- all i know is that Adora cornered her again (ugh) and they argued… a lot… the only reason why I know is because i heard it… then adora “opened up that stupidly big mouth of hers” (Catra’s words, not mine) and told literally everyone in school. Glimmer nearly kicked Catra off the team but Double Trouble threatened to leave too and they made themselves too valuable. Total heat of the moment- Glimmer’s a known hothead and she calmed down eventually… _

_ I don’t really think she likes Catra all too much, probably because of the dance but it WASN'T EVEN CATRAS FAULT??!!! Catra doesn't want me to talk to her, but she nearly bribed me to threaten Adora… Perfuma wouldn’t let me tho :o( and I think Adora gets the point that Catra doesn’t want to talk to Adora, they still argue a lot in club… outside of club… in the hallways… pretty much everytime they make eye contact it's some duel (I have noticed Catra getting her nails done longer than usual) _

_ Sometimes I catch Catra trying to gauge her reactions, almost studying her in club. The only reason i'm involved in rundowns is because Perfuma and I go together after school. Catra swears it's because of some super secret plan to ruin her career but I really dont think thats it. I just think she misses her. I know her well enough that if she wanted to ruin Adora’s life, she would’ve already done so. Plus, I think her outing really worked in her favor because she's getting A LOT more sales now that she plays the ambiguous relationship card, DT doesn’t seem to mind either- they’re always in now, they work as our media expert/spectator, our acting teacher, and I think just general help- they’re kinda bilingual…. Like they just know how to do so much!  _

_ I really like them for Catra, she seems so much lighter, like the chip on her shoulder was fixed with some hot glue- its still there, i probably never wont be but she’s better.  _

_ Sorry that I haven't updated you for a while, as you can see i’ve been super busy! Anyways, till next time :3 _

_ \---- Scorpia _

~~~

_ Dear Diary, _

_ Hey, I know I promised to write in you more but things have been really crazy at school: _

_ starting with the dance (I think we’ve recovered, for the most part), the club’s addition of Double Trouble (which pretty much happened as soon as Glimmer came back), Mermista getting back together with Seahawk (I know, last time, we hope), Midterms are soon, Glimmer’s stressed, Adora is a DISASTER, not to mention she basically outed Catra’s relationship and made whatever they have significantly worse… although sales are good, we should focus on the positive. _

_ I’m stressed right now, I have no idea what to do, I’ve spent so much money on tea and I’m pretty sure Dad is gonna cut my allowance soon if I don’t slow down- if they were in my crop top, they would understand, but they don’t even understand a word I say anymore. After the broken vase incident, they’ve been on my tail and honestly aren’t super sure of me being on the Host Team anymore, they haven’t said anything yet but I just know. _

_ Glimmer’s a mess, she’s seemingly over the dance but the stress it caused hasn’t left her system, she’s waiting for the other ball to drop. She’s more snappy, she nearly kicked Catra off the team, if Double Trouble didn’t step in… it would’ve been even worse… I’m trying to get her to apologize but it’s been weeks and if I knew anything about Catra, I would say that she’s even a little scared of her- though that doesn’t stop her from nearly slicing Adora’s face off every time Glimmer turns around.  _

_ I should ask about a toxic workplace seminar but Glimmer will probably get just a little upset, Adora and Catra are always at each other's throats. Every time Catra says something even a little off color, Adora will criticize her till Catra gets out of her seat and threatens to “pop her” (personally, I don’t know what that means but one can speculate), and I’m sure Catra’s actually hissed at her too. Granted, Adora hasn’t accepted the fact that she and Double Trouble are together and their relationship is completely separate from hers and Catra’s. She’s hard headed, that’s for sure.  _

_ I think the club needs to give Catra the benefit of the doubt, and most have, I’ve seen Catra indulging Frosta on her battle animes, giving Mermista homework answers (she’s like… crazy good at math… it's insane), and letting Perfuma assist her with meditation- it’s really just Glimmer and Adora. _

_ I’ll write again as soon as I can. It’s tense now but hopefully, it’ll get better soon. _

\---- _Bow_

~~~

A subtle fog hung on top of the room, just beyond that she could see the soft glare of magenta lights, to be honest, she doesn’t really know where she is anymore like her brain is forcing her to forget. What she does know is that whatever she is laying on is basically a fucking cloud and whatever this magical hand is feeding to her is basically a god in a crunch. 

She’s never felt lighter, but there’s still an itch at her bones. She can hear a voice from her shoulder, where a soft weight rests like an anchor, and they are the only thing keeping on… whatever she’s on (cloud). Every hundred years, it seems, the voice and the weight make themselves known and readjust themselves momentarily, pressing a soft wet kiss to the side of her melting neck and whispering something in her ear, she responds either with a smile or a laugh but she doesn’t know if she means it, like her body is working on its own accord and its slowly letting her conscious pour itself out with every breath.

“That edible was good, wasn’t it?” they drawl, “I paid a fuckton for it, but it’s worth it to see you like this.”

“Thank you,” her body lets her respond with a soft grin playing at her lips, a small fang poking out and seemingly piercing the skin of her chapped lips.

“Do you want another Cheeto?” they ask and she exerts herself to nod.

_ That’s what they are,  _ Catra thinks for the first time in a while, the person at her side feeding her another Cheeto.

“Are you an angel?” she mused, her voice soft and partially interrogative, she couldn’t really decipher the truth. 

They laugh and it sounds like cathedral bells: melodic, a loud ringing across an empire but so soft to the ears, “sure.”

A beat. Another hundred years, they say: “what are you thinking about right now?”

She doesn’t know, “I don’t know” she choppily breathes out with a laugh, “I’ve never been so empty. What did you do to me?” 

“Finally got that metal pole out of your ass,” they joke, laughing lightly to themselves before coming to a quick halt, “are you purring right now? Catrina?”

She can’t bring herself to take any offense, “I guess I really live up to my name, huh.”

_ Catra or Catrina? What’s your name again? I think it’s Catra, so why is Catrina there too?  _ “What’s my name again?”

“Jesus fuck, you’re high,” they move from their position previous and up to her face, and its absolutely magnificent. Their skin is like liquid bronze with a nice shine, maybe like a new penny, and their eyes a piercing emerald, their usual mischievous glint traded for a rushing wind of concern, only one other face has lived up to theirs. Despite the knotted worry, all she can do is look back at them and laugh. They laugh with her once they know she’s fine.

“You’ll come down eventually,” they say, pressing another soft, open-mouth to her jaw. “It’s nice to see you like this,” they note, “school’s sucked.”

“School sucks,” she repeats and it seems to shake the walls.

Her mouth chews on the words she just spoke, tasting them over and over again only to result in a heap of spit. Something acidic rests on her tongue and she toys with it. She doesn’t say anything else but she’ll respond to any of the angel’s questions. 

Thoughts soon flood her senses, they come in waves, so a few will enter her system like a cold douse of pacific ocean water then pull back, returning sooner or later. She can’t think of much, her name is Catra but her full name is Catrina, she’s 5”2 but will say 5”4 (just to feel a tad more superior), she has a beautiful partner (the angel), and she misses Adora.

Adora. Blonde hair. Steely blue eyes. Smells like the grass you can find right beside the beach and all the different weeds that live there too, she can nearly smell her, like she has to chase it first to the end of the universe and only then she would be able to truly know. She’s tall, but not too tall, just taller than her. She plays sports if only she could remember what a sport is. She has nice firm biceps, ones she spent too much time looking at, and every bit of her is defined and chiseled- like some statue in Greece. She looks like that one goddess, Athena, and acts like her too. Her face comes back to her with the next wave of thoughts.

_ “What are you doing?” She comes from thin air, she’s disappointed, “you know that kills people.” _

_ “No it doesn’t” she rasps out. _

_ “You’re lazy,” she states, no sympathy just cold truth, “you’re a slacker. Now that I’m gone, you have no one to piggyback off of. Just like Weaver said you would.” _

_ That’s not true, she wants to say, but her mouth can’t work. _

_ “You’re pathetic,” she spits at her before disappearing with the next crashing stream of consciousness, her words echo. _

Is this coming down? The fog dissipates and the lights seem to dim with it, she starts piecing together where she is: the bed. Not her’s. Bedroom, yes. Double Trouble, the angel, yes. Adora, not here. She’s okay, she’s safe. Each breath is a sip of water, cool and sobering, she has become a dehydrated man in the desert and she’s repeating whatever motion it takes to stop the soon crash onto land. 

“Catra, you okay?” Double Trouble asks, bringing that concern again, she can’t seem to move.

“Yeah,” she says groggily, “I think I’m coming down.”

“Okay hold on,” they move and bring her something, “drink this.”

She doesn’t care what it is but she drinks it, pushing it down her throat. After a moment, they let her breathe again. 

“Can you kiss me?” she asks almost weakly, but they just smile and nod, coming down to press their lips to her.

A beat. A hundred years. She could kiss them. “Does that feel better?”

She nods, moving for the first time in centuries to lay on her side, pressing herself into her partner. 

“Can you tell me about Adora?” they ask hesitantly, “we don’t have too I just wanted to know, she seems to be stressing you out quite a bit, and to be honest, I don’t even know why.”

Catra hums, pushing the thoughts of uselessness down before responding, “I think I told you the most of it. We grew up together, supposed to go to the public high school together but one day, she just left,” she pauses, “she did come back, I don’t remember much, it was super late and she woke me up and begged me to come with.” 

“And you guys aren’t related in any way?” they press.

“No, we grew up in a foster home with this old lady who didn’t have enough for retirement so she just used us for government funds, I think- it doesn’t matter, I got out a few months after her, saw the error of my ways or whatever, and decided to apply to BrightMoon with Scorpia on a scholarship deal.”

“Why didn’t you go with her?” they ask, no one they’re teetering on a boundary. They always have to be careful with her, but her defenses are down.  
“I was tired, it was late and I had just woken up, of course, I was gonna say no,” she pauses, “but also, I was just _tired._ Like, she was always first pick, the favorite, the star. I figured if she left, it might’ve gotten better for me, but it only got worse.”

“I’m sorry,” they apologize softly.

“Don’t be. I got out, didn’t I? I’m safe, I have my own room and something like a family, I even have  _ you.” _

_ Cute _ . “Sometimes I miss her, Adora,” a moment of true honesty, what they were looking for, “but she kinda sucks now.”

“You should sober up, drink more water,” they hand her a cup and she gulps it down graciously.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” they respond, drawing circles on her bare shoulder, “you should rest.”

“Hold me?” she asks quietly.

“Of course,” they open their arms, allowing her to move closer, she wraps herself against their chest like a tiny kitten.  _ She really is a cat, huh? _

In moments, she’s asleep. Catra is not a heavy sleeper in the slightest, but the weed and the melatonin they slipped in her drink should help. It wasn’t very moral of them, and to be honest, they were catching the  _ tiniest _ bit of feelings, but still, a job needs to be done.

~~~

She was fine. She is fine, she thinks when she knows she is not fine. If you were to lay her life out in percentages, create graphs and lists, you could pinpoint this as a time where she was better than most, sure, but this was not the best point in her life; yet, Adora did not care, she only cared for the thumping pulse around her, the upped vibrato in her voice, the way the walls danced and flirted with her, and the way she just couldn’t…

“... give a fuck!” she whoops for herself, dancing in a familiar crowd and partnering with an even more familiar bottle of Tito’s. It tastes like one of those fiery glass shits but liquefied, but you heard the woman before.

Her body moves in its own manner, responding to the bumper car people around it, moving less rigidly than usual and nearly dancing to a beat. Her entire body pulsed with euphoria and the music rung in her ears like her own heartbeat, she could be free, like this.

The music never dies down but eventually the bottle she was nursing did. After a beat drop where everyone figures it’d be best to synchronize mosh, she pushes her way past headbutts and aggressive toe stomps to the kitchen, where she finds a mostly empty bar. She doesn’t find much, just a few ales nobody liked left- she settled.

Taking two in between the fingers of her right hand, she moves past the crowd and to the outside, finding an empty chair and sinking into it. Dancing was fun, momentarily, but she’s always been an observer, she chooses to watch flyaway couples around the bonfire, enjoying one another’s company like it was the slow death of the world. 

She can see herself sitting there, with a brunette around her waist, hips digging into hers. They would find themselves washed up here, after hours or maybe just minutes of exhilarating dancing, spinning each other like they would a thousand times before, and find themselves in the seats of those couples. Their guards would be down, and she would let Adora kiss the taut bowstring line of her shoulders. She would feel her drawn out pants on her neck, or check, or sternum- or preferably over her own lips.

This hasn’t happened before, but she could try. She chuckles to herself, clumsily sliding her phone out of her pocket, nearly dropping it five times, she gets it into her sweaty palms and dials a number she knows all too well.

Voicemail doesn’t stop her, maybe it should, but it couldn’t after their history.

“Hey Catra,” she drawls, doing her best Catra accent, “do you miss me?”

Pause. “I know you don’t, or, maybe you do- you’ve, uh, gotten really good at being mean. Better than before. You were always good at being mean and not gonna lie to you, I always kinda liked it. I liked you. And if you wanted to kick me you could, still, even. Haha, that’s too much, I’m sorry,” crickets. Static.

“Yeah, I was just calling to say that I miss you. I miss you so much. Am I allowed to say that? Even before all this fighting stuff, we couldn’t be intimate?” the words come out broken, there’s still no response. “I learned what that was, through Glimmer and Bow and I guess everyone else at BrightMoon. I don’t hold it against you, I think if I even tried to touch you, Weaver would send it away. But intimacy is more than that and, even then, we didn’t have enough.”

Catra wouldn’t actually hear this, would she? Fuck it.

“And I really wanted to touch you, really really badly. Don’t let sober me hear this, or anyone else because people think I don’t know my own feelings but I swear I do. I really like you? Those words sound weird but I don’t know what to call it. I just wanna be around you all the time and if we have to argue then fine, I can do that, and if you wanna be with Dootle Tootle or whatever, that’s cool too, I’ll live. But just know I care about you. A lot. Uh, bye.”

She hangs up. She doesn’t think too much on it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: identiddycrisys (dm me ! I need more she-ra pals) 
> 
> Spotify (for fic playlist, catra's spite playlist, catrouble, and catradora playlist): https://open.spotify.com/user/pipermontoya?si=6GOdYqXiQOm9H6yiD_1caw 
> 
> ~~~  
> Q: What's your weirdest phobia/fear?  
> A: I'm personally terrified of the dark, so I keep a bunch of cool nightlights on!

**Author's Note:**

> Catra dressing like young leonardo dicaprio lives rent free in my head and u should consider leasing ur head out for her too (but free)
> 
> ~~~  
> find me!  
> twitter: identiddycrisys  
> tik tok: ohmaternal  
> ~~~  
> Q: Who's your favorite OHSHC character?  
> A: Mines tamaki fs :3 all i could think about while rewatching the episodes was how him and adora have the same amount of braincells lmao


End file.
